


Traces

by Hogwhorets



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Start, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chatlogs, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Mystery, POV Third Person, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Spoilers, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 59,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24229516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hogwhorets/pseuds/Hogwhorets
Summary: Mi Sun has been an agent for the vast majority of her life, and for as long as she can remember, her identity has been more obsolete than indispensable. Her father, a high-level executive in an international intelligence agency, was always a cruel, corrupt man that did everything within his power to rid himself of her. This assignment seems to be his final act.There were people missing, mysterious donations of large summations of money, and strange sightings across the city. Her job? Find the root of the problem. With no leads to go on - and no help on the assignment, per her father's bidding - Mi Sun knew that this would not be an easy task, but if she wanted to finally escape her father's mistreatment, she'd have to do it.What she didn't expect was the assignment to interfere with her cover. Yoosung, her longtime classmate, only knew her as Min - a girl from a normal family, with a normal background, who kept her head down and did well in school. After witnessing a strange interaction between Min and other agents, Yoosung contracts a certain hacker for help.More is going on than meets the eye, but can they save her in time?
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel & Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel & Reader, 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader
Comments: 42
Kudos: 96





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I really thought that it would be fun to explore some darker sides of MC, and I thought what better way to do that than writing out her history and how it plays into the RFA storyline on a much deeper, darker level. 
> 
> I've taken some creative liberties with what's considered "canon", so keep that in mind as you read! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update: 
> 
> I decided that I was dissatisfied with how I'd written this fic thus far, and so I took the time to rewrite both chapters and change the interactions to feel a little more natural. I also wanted to spend more time characterizing MC and explaining her thoughts and motives, so I tried to incorporate that into this chapter while building the atmosphere around her. 
> 
> MC now has a name! Throughout the fic, I'll be using her "real" name and "fake" name interchangeably, so keep an eye out for context!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The city was eerily quiet. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on her bones, she felt as though the earliest hours of the morning were the only time she truly found some peace and quiet. For a small, fleeting moment, her disarray of thoughts would come to a tranquil halt, and she could look at the assignment in her fingers in a new light. For that small moment, her bones would stop aching; the tension in her head would resolve and fade; her fingers would stop shaking, if only for a few seconds. It wasn’t permanent, however much she wished it to be. As the light began to filter through the streets and people rose from their beds, her panicked thoughts would start once more like clockwork, but she supposed that would be alright. For now, she could relish in the quiet. 

Her desk was positioned in front of a wall of windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, far above the streets below. It was a luxury she’d never have been able to afford on her own, but tolerating such a high-risk job came with perks. Sometimes, when her work became too much, she’d sit on the floor in front of the windows and gaze at the lights twinkling far below; in her sleep-deprived state, they seemed hypnotic, and it brought her a warm wave of comfort to remind herself that she was not entirely alone in the world. Even at this hour, there were others out there battling stressors of their own, and the solidarity that came from that acknowledgment kept her from coming unhinged. 

Her coffee mug was growing cold between her shaking fingers, and with a sigh falling from her dry lips, Mi Sun reached over her head and set the mug on the edge of her desk. At some point, the shaking in her hands had ceased being caused by her anxiety, as she had enough caffeine coursing through her veins to keep her jittery for a week. In truth, she hated the taste of energy drinks; they were sickeningly sweet and settled like rocks in her stomach, but they were effective. After finishing off the fourth can for the night, Mi Sun had given in to brewing a pot of coffee, and she’d finished it in under an hour. If nothing else, she was impressed with her heart for not exploding. 

As her hand fell back to her lap, the gleam of silver on her wrist caught her eyes. It was a delicate bracelet, with a simple band and a small, rectangular charm on the back. The top of the charm was blank, but the side that rested against her skin had a small, intricate carving centered on the face of it:  _ MC.  _ They were her initials, short for Mi Sun Chae. Her mother had given it to her when she was young, as a way of reminding herself to keep her values close to heart. In her line of work, Mi Sun wasn’t allowed to readily hand out her name, nor was she allowed to properly put it on anything. Everything in her apartment was registered under an alias, including the location itself. She had wallets full of fake IDs and government papers, and enough wigs to supply a small outlet store. Changing her identity seemed as easy as changing her clothes, but there was something so unbearably lonely about diminishing her own existence. At least with this bracelet, she could keep a piece of herself hidden from the world. 

Sighing, Mi Sun pulled herself to her feet and glanced at her monitors, wondering if the program she’d coded would be a success. It was her fourth attempt for the night, and with each failure, she’d carefully combed through the language to find errors or rewrite imperfect sections. It was exhausting work, and she could feel her retinas beginning to protest with each glance at the screens. It was all she’d done for days. 

Her assignment was a large one - far larger than any lone agent should have been able to handle, but she supposed voicing that opinion would do little to help her case. Some bright-eyed recruits from the new intel division had taken notice of a string of missing person cases that appeared to have similar circumstances, and after careful file recovery and observation, they’d built a case file on what appeared to be a mass disappearance of people from various classes and socioeconomic statuses. The disappearances had begun roughly two years prior, gradually at first and then more as of late. There were no leads on where the victims had gone, nor were there any details that seemed to connect them. As far as her supervisors were concerned, it was a dead case. 

It made sense why she’d been chosen to handle it. In place of a proper team, Mi Sun worked diligently on her own, and her supervisors knew that the pressure of performing well would keep her from slacking off. She could recall the cold amusement in her father’s eyes as he’d handed her the file, fingers lingering on the folder like a threat. 

Her father was a sadist, although she was one of the few people that saw that side of him. Charming and charismatic, he’d surged through the ranks of their intelligence agency abruptly and without mercy. By the time he’d turned thirty, he’d overseen thousands of task forces, handled hundreds of projects, and tied up dozens of loose ends. His name held weight in the agency, and his reputation was not entirely pleasant. 

The agency extended beyond the confines of their country; it was an international company, working with hundreds of thousands of businesses and intel units world-wide. Even large organizations such as the United Nations commended them for their handling of confidential information, and with the understanding that they would handle the dirty work, they were allowed to operate without questions being asked. Of course, such confidentiality was a dual-edged sword, as Mi Sun knew that foreign countries expected them to fall on their sword should any complications reach the public eye. It was no concern, however; executives like her father were very good at burying secrets. 

However cruel he was to his subordinates, the treatment that she received far outweighed it. He’d always regarded her coldly in her youth and were it not for her mother’s good graces, Mi Sun was sure he’d have left her to die. He had no use for a child, he’d always claimed, but abandoning his family wouldn’t have been good for his image. She’d been left to her own devices in her mother’s care for a time, but when her mother passed away, Mi Sun’s father was forced to acknowledge her existence and make use of her. She’d undergone agent training at a very young age, and despite the concerns that her supervisors vocalized, her father insisted on turning her into a tool. Between her agent training, classes, and personal lessons, Mi Sun hadn’t had a moment to herself throughout her childhood. By the time she’d turned eleven, her hacking skills far surpassed her peers and her reasoning skills opposed some of the top-level investigators. She’d inherited her father’s wit, but even that was not enough to please him. 

After receiving an official position as an agent, Mi Sun had managed to escape her father’s watchful glare. She’d been placed under new supervisors and relocated back home, to operate in conjunction with another agency in Seoul. It had been two years of blissful peace, taking classes on the side and finishing her assignments with a stellar performance. Her supervisors spoke nothing but praise for her, and without fail, she excelled through promotions. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before her progress caught her father’s eye. 

He’d returned home to Korea only a year prior. After assuming his position as the Chief Executive over their branch in Seoul, he’d begun to take a special interest in Mi Sun’s work. While she continued to succeed, he continued to observe, and for once, she’d found herself clinging to the hope that perhaps she’d finally earned an ounce of respect from the man. It was a foolish hope, and despite her best intentions, her peace in the agency was short-lived. 

Her father had been hands-off for the majority of the year, and while she wasn’t sure what inspired the change, his behavioral patterns had changed a few weeks ago. Suddenly, he was irritable and overbearing, and rather than receiving reports from her supervisors, he expected her to report to him herself. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was brewing something behind the confines of his desk; there was a gleam in his eye each time he gazed at her, cold and unmoving. He looked at her as he would a stranger - without an ounce of paternity. 

When he’d called her to his office a few days prior, Mi Sun had felt as though her chest would burst. The agency building had been eerily quiet then, and despite her best efforts to greet familiar faces on her way to his office, no one would look at her. Her supervisors, who usually wished her luck, had shut the door to their conference room and acted as if she didn’t exist. She knew something was wrong, but no amount of preparation would have kept her from feeling the anxiety that gripped her so ferociously. Her father had been planning something, and it wasn’t until then that she finally understood. 

The assignment was challenging on purpose. As she sat in front of him, feeling less like an agent and more like a child, Mi Sun had done her best to control the shaking in her voice. She’d asked him why she was handling the case alone, and his answer had been enough to freeze her in her tracks. 

“ _ Can you not handle it? _ ” He’d asked, leering at her. His angular chin rested atop his laced fingers, bringing his cold, grey eyes level with her own. Gazing at the two from the sidelines, one likely wouldn’t have guessed that they were father and daughter. Mi Sun greatly resembled her mother, and it was yet another reason that her father cursed her existence. 

“ _ No, I…”  _ She’d known then that he was trying to back her into a corner, but it came as no surprise. 

“ _ No?”  _

Her voice was meek when she replied. “ _ Yes, I can handle it. _ ” It was a ridiculous task, and she knew that, but admitting her doubts in front of him would mean playing into his hands. Her success in the company was a threat to him, as it meant she might be able to surpass his division and take work from elsewhere. Should she disappear, he’d lose his control over her - he  _ hated  _ that notion. “ _ I...I was just curious about the case size. This is typically enough work for a team.”  _

He’d smiled then. It was not a pleasant expression. “ _ Yes, but your talents surpass your peers - or so I’ve heard. Your supervisors speak nothing but praise for you. Do you doubt their evaluations?”  _

She’d gripped the fabric of her trousers so hard that the color had bled from her knuckles. Each question was a trap. “ _ No. _ ”

“ _ So, then, if you’re as talented as they say, this should be possible for you. Am I wrong to have faith in you?”  _

She hadn’t been able to meet his eyes. “ _ No. _ ”

“ _ Very well, Mi Sun.”  _ He seldom spoke her name; she hated the way it sounded on his lips. “ _ You exist because I allow it. Show me that my efforts are not wasted on you. Dismissed.”  _

Without another word, she’d placed the case file under her arm and excused herself from his office, taking extra precautions not to meet his eyes as the door shut behind her. All eyes seemed to be on her as she strode past desks and conference rooms, but Mi Sun had swallowed her fear and gazed at the floor ahead of her. It seemed that everyone agreed in recognizing her fate; this assignment was far too big for her to complete on her own, and her father fully expected her to fail. Her failure would present him with enough of an excuse to put her back where he wanted her. 

A beep sounded from her monitors, interrupting her bitter reminiscing. She slid into her chair, feeling the cool leather at her back. As her honey eyes surveyed the information spreading across her computer, she came to a realization: the code had worked. 

Her hands flew to the keyboard, and Mi Sun carefully put in another few lines, trying desperately to contain the hope budding in her chest. She’d been hacking streams of data one layer at a time for three days, with hardly an ounce of sleep or proper nourishment. Her exhaustion had reached a point where she saw shapes on the edges of her vision, and she was so hungry that her stomach had stopped growling. Standing too fast made her head swim, but she didn’t have the luxury of stopping to prepare a meal. 

With another string of sounds, the light on her monitor shifted, and she watched with damp eyes as the files began to pour in across her screen. Over a dozen windows opened at once and were it not for the absolute monster that she’d built herself, her computer likely would have short-circuited. The small squeak of triumph died in her throat, escaping as a dry, garbled sound. 

_ She’d done it.  _ After days spent in front of her computer, pleading with any force of nature listening to give her one, solid lead, she’d done it. It wasn’t enough to solve the case by any means, but it was  _ something.  _

Whoever had hacked into the bank statements of the missing victims had covered their tracks well, but Mi Sun knew a backdoor code when she saw one. She’d written and rewritten programs over the course of three days in order to reform the code the other hacker had used, and after a significant amount of trial and error, she’d managed. As the deleted bank statements began to flood her computer, Mi Sun surveyed them carefully; all of the victims had made donations shortly before their disappearances to a parent company she didn’t recognize, and upon investigating the source of the parent company, she found nothing. 

Well, not  _ much.  _ The parent company was registered to a single individual - a young woman. The name ‘ _ Mint Eye _ ’ sprawled across her monitor with an expertly-contracted logo, and for a moment, she gazed at the new piece of information with confusion swirling in her irises. She’d never heard of it before, and doing a basic search gave her no information. All she had to go on was that each victim had made a vast donation to the organization before disappearing, and someone had taken the time to erase those donations from their private bank files. That meant one thing: whatever this organization was, it did not want to be publicized. 

As she began to delve into the web of information on the young woman, she came across a series of confidential files regarding the mental health of the target. She’d undergone sporadic therapy sessions with large gaps in-between, before abruptly cutting contact with her therapist not long before the disappearances started. Mi Sun skimmed the documents, reading file after file on the young woman’s “dark delusions”, but as the last file in the folder popped up, she found her fingers hesitating over her mouse. One word stood out to her, and it sent a shiver down her spine:  _ obituary.  _

Frowning, Mi Sun quickly read over the details. It wasn’t uncommon for a target to fake their death, but the cause - suicide, she read - wasn’t very uncharacteristic considering the content of her files from her therapy sessions. With her breath sitting like a rock in her throat, Mi Sun tried to find any evidence of the young woman’s existence beyond the date on her obituary, but she found nothing. 

Perhaps, then, she could ask around about her. Mi Sun had posed as a private investigator before, and it wasn’t uncommon in her line of work to do field research. She quickly pulled up medical files to locate the young woman’s next of kin, but even that proved to be difficult. Her mother and father, Mi Sun realized, would probably be little help, as her relationship with them had been far from stable. Her stomach twisted - Mi Sun was never fond of relating to her targets. Upon branching out to extended family, however, she found something that she could use. 

_ Yoosung Kim.  _

Mi Sun stared at the name for a moment, feeling the nerves in her brain sound off in recognition. She’d heard it before, but where...It wouldn’t come to her. Chewing on her lip, she pushed her chair back from her desk, deciding that she could ponder while finally filling her stomach with something. 

Her cabinets were pathetically bare, but she’d done enough preparation to have  _ something  _ available should she take a break during her pursuit. Cup Noodles weren’t the most nutritious dinner; luckily, in her time as a young woman living on her own, Mi Sun had developed a trick or two for sprucing up even the cheapest of meals. She pulled some vegetables from the fridge and eyed them carefully, making sure they hadn’t begun to brown and wither during her period of neglect. Deeming them worthy, she carefully positioned them on a chopping board and pulled a knife from the countertop, beginning to slice away. 

As she chopped them, she heard another notification. Rather than her work computer, it was from her laptop, which she’d left open to charge on the end of the counter. She leaned over as far as she could without pulling her hands from the board, squinting to read the notification sounding off in the corner. 

_ Lab Practical due at midnight.  _

“Oh, shoot,” She muttered. She’d finished the project days ago, but in her haste to focus on the case file, she’d forgotten to add her peer review notes and submit it. She hadn’t thought about the paper since her peer review session earlier that week, and-

_ Wait.  _ Mi Sun frowned. As she stared at the notification, a smiling face suddenly popped into her head, and the connection hit her like a freight train.  _ Yoosung Kim.  _ That was where she knew the name from! 

Dropping the knife and quickly rinsing her hands, Mi Sun pulled her school laptop towards her and opened their classroom portal, quickly surfing through the students listed on the sidebar. Sure enough, the familiar name stood out like a sore thumb to her prying eyes. She had a class with him - two, actually - and though they weren’t exactly friends, they’d spoken and done peer assignments together before. She hadn’t put two and two together since she rarely acknowledged his surname, but there was no doubt - this was the same Yoosung. 

Something churned uncomfortably in her stomach as she submitted the assignment and returned to her vegetables. The broth had begun steaming, so she quickly finished them off, doing her best not to nick her fidgety hands with the knife. A lead was right in front of her, and though she should have been able to separate her personal life from her work, the prospect of getting closer to the kind, violet-eyed boy she knew in passing made her uneasy. The young woman in her files had been his cousin, but she’d heard nothing of his relationship to her - they weren’t that close, after all, and the death of a loved one wasn’t something that came up casually in conversation. How could she naturally pursue the lead without being manipulative? She wasn’t sure. 

Yoosung had been kind to her when she’d first transferred in for the semester, and though they didn’t speak often, he always offered her a smile. She’d had a late start this year after her father abruptly enrolled her, claiming that with all of her success in her assignments, she had enough free time that she should be ‘making herself useful’. Without consulting her, he’d enlisted her in the computer science program and scheduled her just over part-time. Her classes were often in the middle of the day, which - she hated to admit it - worked well with her schedule. On nights that she stayed up late working on the assignments for the agency, she had enough time to catch a quick nap before her classes, and there was enough time afterward to get her school assignments out of the way. Mi Sun was intelligent and disciplined, so the work had never been challenging for her. She maintained good grades and had a good - albeit distanced - relationship with her professors. 

From what she’d heard during their few times working together, Yoosung was struggling to stay motivated in his coursework. Perhaps that was something she could use; her intentions were still manipulative, but she knew that as an agent, she didn’t have the luxury of exercising morals on her personal relationships, if this could even fall into that category. If she could get closer to him under the guise of helping him with coursework, it would be beneficial to him as well, and that made her feel a little better about the idea. 

As she mixed the noodles and settled back at her desk, Mi Sun let a sigh pass through her lips. They had class again tomorrow, and if she recalled the syllabus, they would be working on a group project now that their midterms were over. She furrowed her brows, pulling out her laptop and gazing at the course page.  _ Perhaps she’s already made group assignments,  _ she thought hopefully. Connecting her laptop to her desktop with a small, black cord, Mi Sun switched the window over to her main monitors and began typing furiously into her prompt window. 

The teacher’s password wasn’t hard to break, and as she began surfing through her professor’s personal files, she couldn’t help but chuckle at it. It was a pet name joined with what Mi Sun assumed to be a childhood nickname, as well as a set of numbers - the professor’s birth year, no less - and no special characters. It was far less secure than what she would have used, but she supposed her middle-aged professor hadn’t expected a student to attempt hacking into her account. The information wasn’t exactly ground-breaking, and the most any normal student could do would be attempting to change their grades. 

Sure enough, she found the assignment file with the groups listed. Rather than surfing through the five-page document, she searched her name and located her pairing. She hadn’t been lucky enough to get paired with him by chance, so without a second to spare, she replaced her partner’s name with Yoosung’s and switched his group. Satisfied, she closed her prompt window and logged out of the platform, effectively erasing any trace of herself from the university’s network. 

She had a class with him in the afternoon tomorrow, so she could only hope that the professor wouldn’t revise her groups last-minute. Should she choose to do so, Mi Sun would have to get creative, but this was enough of a lead to allow her to breathe easily for now. With heavy-lidded eyes, she shoved the last of her noodles into her mouth and got up to discard the cup. After straightening up the kitchen and ensuring that her prompt windows were shut, Mi Sun made her way to her bedroom and grabbed a towel from her closet. She hadn’t showered in three days, nor had she changed her clothes, and she didn’t need to see her reflection to know that there were bags under her eyes. Perhaps with this new lead, she’d have the leisure to take slightly better care of herself; her body could only run on fumes for so long, and though she was used to it by now, even she could feel the dull ache throbbing in her joints. 

With the towel tucked under her arm, Mi Sun slipped into the bathroom and turned on the water, a smile ghosting across her lips. 

  
Perhaps this assignment wasn’t  _ entirely  _ impossible. 


	2. Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mi Sun and Yoosung get to work on their project assignment...and Yoosung sees something that he shouldn't have.

“Min-Seo!” 

Despite the noise in the hallway, the name managed to cut across the brewing conversations and hit her ears. It was a pleasant voice, and one she’d been expecting to hear from the moment she’d left the lecture hall. Class had come and gone as expected, and much to her relief, her professor had rattled off the group assignments without noticing her small change. She’d done her best to act naturally as Yoosung met her gaze and gave her a friendly nod; in his eyes, they had experience as peers, so it would be no different from the other times they’d encountered one another in study groups or peer review sessions. 

“Min-Seo, hey.” It was a common name. _Min-Seo Cho._ In place of her own name - for confidentiality reasons - she’d assumed an identity under a name that would bring any search hundreds of thousands of results. Everything she owned was registered under the alias, and her father had gone to great lengths to fabricate a background that would clear in any search, personal or official. To any prying eyes, she seemed a normal student with a normal family, and she had yet to encounter any problems. 

Looking up from her phone - it was a side number, and one that she only used for things Min-Seo would reasonably do - she caught sight of the eager blonde jogging up to her. As he reached her side, Yoosung flashed her a cheery smile. “It’s been a while,” He said softly, falling into step beside her, “How have you been?”

She dropped her phone into the back pocket of her trousers and placed her hands on the straps of her bag, doing her best to match his pace. “Well, I suppose,” She replied thoughtfully, chuckling softly, “Now that midterms are over, I feel like I can relax a little.” 

“You were stressed about midterms?” Yoosung asked, his surprise clear on his face. His reactions and expressions were always larger than life. “You always seem so calm about coursework.” 

“Things are not always as they seem.” She shook a finger at him dramatically, and without skipping a beat, Yoosung laughed softly. Smiling, Mi Sun continued, “Hopefully this project will be smooth.”

“Are you doubting me?” Yoosung jutted his bottom lip out, mocking a pout. 

“I would never.” Mi Sun grabbed hold of the door, pulling it open and ushering him forward. “After you.” 

He stepped past her, but not without protest, “Min-Seo, I’m supposed to do that!” His voice took on hints of a whine, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at him. “Don’t laugh at me!” 

Shaking her head, she followed him out into the courtyard. It was bustling around this time, but as the next period began to loom closer and closer, students were filtering back into surrounding buildings. As the two of them approached the parking lot, Mi Sun glanced at her blonde companion, raising a brow. 

“That was your last class for the day, right?” 

“Yeah!” Yoosung stopped short, gripping his backpack and rocking back and forth on his feet. He gazed at her as if he had something else to say, but his expression looked strained. 

She tilted her head curiously. “You okay?”

“I, um…” He averted his gaze. In the blinding sunlight, Mi Sun could see a rosy tint creep across his cheeks. “Would you want to come to my dorm? To work on the project, I mean.” 

His question hung in the air between them. After staring blankly at him, Mi Sun’s lips split into a grin and she laughed, spurring a few contesting whines from the blonde boy in front of her. 

“Why are you laughing?” He asked, pouting again. 

“Look at your face!” She did her best to contain her laughter, but she couldn’t help it. Yoosung was friendly and approachable, but it seemed that no amount of social skill could overcome his nerves when it came to women. It was an innocent question - and one that she expected, no less - but he reacted as if he’d just asked her on a date. “Do I make you nervous, Yoosung?” 

“No!” His eyes went wide, and he threw his hands up as if defending himself from her question. “I just didn’t want you to take it the wrong way!”

“You’re funny.” She shook her head and stepped past him, starting towards the parking lot. After a few steps, she realized that he wasn’t following. “I’m gonna drop my textbooks off in my car, and then we can head to your dorm, okay?” 

His puzzled expression was replaced by a shy smile, and with a bob of his head, Yoosung followed her towards her car. She hadn’t parked far, so in no time at all, she reached the small, black sedan with her companion hot on her heels. As she propped open the door to the backseat and set her bag down, she heard a gasp of surprise from behind the car. 

“I recognize this!” Yoosung chirped, poking his head around the side to gaze at her. His eyes were wide with delight. “Min, you play LOLOL?”  
  
“Min?” She questioned. 

“It’s a nickname!” He protested, “Friends give each other nicknames, don’t they?” 

_Friends._ She felt a small smile settle on her lips, but it wasn’t enough to diminish the uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach. “Yeah, I do,” She answered, her voice softer than before. 

“No way!” Yoosung trailed his fingers over the bumper sticker. He was surprised by her character choice, but pleased nonetheless. He hadn’t pegged her as the type to play games like that. “What’s your class?”

With her backpack significantly lighter, Mi Sun pulled it over her shoulders and shut the door, locking her car behind her. “Assassin,” She replied, raising her brows at him. She pulled a hair tie from her wrist and grabbed her hair from her shoulders, tying it up behind her. Her hair was long and thick, and the longer they stood in the sun, the more she hated the feeling of it on her back. 

“So cool!” If it were possible for there to be stars in his eyes, she was sure she’d have seen them. He took his place by her side and began to rattle on about his own class, going over his choices for builds and some cool facts he’d heard from some of his friends. She nodded and added small comments here and there, content to let him fill the silence. Eventually, he nudged her shoulder and flashed a devilish grin, pointing at himself with his thumb. “You know, I’m rank two.” 

She stopped walking. “No way!” Rank _two_ ? As in, second place on the _entire_ server? She couldn’t believe it; Mi Sun had figured he knew his stuff from how he talked about it, but she wouldn’t have guessed he was _that_ good. 

“Really, Min!” He seemed pleased with her reaction, and as she gazed at him with her jaw hanging open, his blush returned more fiercely than before. He reached a hand upwards and rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly, adding, “I probably play too much, but it’s paid off! We should play together sometime.” 

She chewed at her lip before reluctantly nodding. “Maybe! I don’t play as much as I used to - it was more of a summer hobby.” 

The disappointment was clear on his face, but Yoosung quickly replaced it with a smile. “Well, if you’re ever up for it, let me know.” 

Mi Sun met his smile with one of her own. “Will do, Yoosung.” 

  
  


***

  
  


“What are the requirements for the project again?” Yoosung whined lethargically. She’d left him to brainstorm ideas while she ran to the convenience store for snacks, and upon hearing her return, he’d already delved head-first into procrastination. She chuckled as she returned to the room, finding him upside-down on his bed with his phone on the mattress beside him. 

“Yoosung,” She cooed, clicking her tongue in disapproval. With a stubborn huff, he fixed his posture and sat up, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. It seemed that homework was the _last_ thing he wanted to be doing, but she could hardly blame him. As he’d told her when they’d first gotten to his dorm, midterms had been enough to make him want to drop out. To have a project assigned immediately after? Oh, what a cruel fate. 

She shoved a bag of chips in his direction and shook her finger as if scolding him. “Take these.” 

He perked up immediately. “Woah, Min!” Once again, his eyes seemed to twinkle. “They had these?” He turned the bag of Honey Buddha chips over in his hands as she’d handed him something priceless. “I’ve never seen these there!” 

She smirked. “I know a place. If you can focus, I’ll tell you where to get them.” 

As if she’d flipped on a switch, Yoosung pulled her laptop into his lap and began typing furiously. She couldn’t help but laugh at him, to which he stuck out his tongue and returned to his work. She stepped closer and leaned beside him, trying to peer at what he was doing; normally, she was possessive of her belongings due to the nature of her work, but her laptop was as clean as could be. She had multiples of each of her devices - phone and computer included - and she never accessed anything work-related on her devices intended for public use. 

He glanced up at her. “Do you like animals?” 

As he spoke, Mi Sun settled onto the floor ahead of him, a notebook and a bag of chips balanced expertly on her lap. She’d brainstormed some ideas earlier, but so far, neither of them had come up with something they were both excited about. “Yeah, of course,” She replied finally. She’d never had a pet of her own, but she’d always wanted one. “How come?” 

“Well, our theme is the natural world, and you’re a computer science major, right?” She nodded, and Yoosung continued, “What if we did something with animals? Something that could help them?”

Her brows drew together in confusion, but she figured he had some sort of plan. “Did you have something in mind?”

Yoosung brushed his bangs out of his eyes and tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. “Oh!” He grabbed the laptop, furiously typing something she couldn’t see into the search bar. “When I was younger, our neighbor’s dog got hit by a car. He survived!” Yoosung flashed his hands ahead of him, noticing her worrisome expression, and continued, “But one of his legs had to be amputated. They ended up getting a prosthetic for him, but I remember them struggling to afford it. They’re super expensive.” 

She tapped the end of her pin against her lips, considering what he’d said. “So, you want to do something along those lines? Maybe we could try and make a prototype for affordable prosthetics?” 

His expression brightened. “Yeah!” He was quiet for a second, and then he added, “Do you think we really could?” 

She popped a chip into her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully. These were in her rotation of favorite snacks, but it had been some time since she’d been able to indulge in such a way. “I think so.” She outlined his idea on the same page in her notebook, scribbling some thoughts along the way. “I’ve put robots together before, and since this is just a prototype, it doesn’t have to be perfect. I think it’s manageable.” 

His smile erupted across his face. “Awesome, Min!” He began to twitch in excitement, and turned the laptop on his lap to show her some examples he’d saved. “These are some of the simpler ones, but they look uncomfortable.” Yoosung frowned. “It’d be cool if we could make it comfortable _and_ functional.” 

She shifted her honey eyes from the screen to his face, tilting her head. “You really like animals, don’t you, Yoosung?”

He bobbed his head, scrolling further down the page. “Yeah, I do. My cousin had a dog that I was really fond of, and I used to do volunteer work with her from time to time.” He paused, his expression becoming more solemn. For a fleeting moment, Mi Sun could see something sad settle in his eyes. “Animals are innocent, and I feel like...we have all of these resources to protect ourselves and make life easier, but it’s wasted if we aren’t using them to make the world better, too.” 

His answer surprised her, and Mi Sun took a moment to reflect on it. His sincerity took route in her heart, and the frown on her lips softened. “Yoosung, that’s...really sincere,” She murmured, her pen frozen in her fingers, “Have you ever thought about doing something with animals for your career?” 

He chewed his lip, eyes returning to the screen. “To be honest, I don’t know what I want to do. I used to, but life’s gotten...confusing.” He pointed out another photo to her, and as he added it to their resource page, she did a simple sketch of it on the page. “That’s a good idea, though. Thanks, Min.” He smiled at her, and she could see that he meant it. 

She returned the expression, eyes falling into cheery half-moons. “Of course.” 

They worked in diligent silence for another hour or two, making small comments and jokes here and there, before finally deciding to call it a night. Yoosung sheepishly admitted that he’d promised his LOLOL guild to play with them, and Mi Sun knew that she should get home to pursue other leads with her assignment. After packing up her things, she left the rest of the snacks - including a couple of bags of Honey Buddha chips, Yoosung happily discovered - on his bed and wished him well, letting herself out. 

It was dark when she finally reached the parking lot again, but Mi Sun didn’t mind. She’d endured enough agent training that she was confident in her ability to protect herself, and she doubted that there were many individuals on campus that could overpower her. From the time she’d been young, her father had gone to great lengths to ensure that she was in peak condition across the board, including rigorous physical training and regular spars with men much larger than her. As a kid, she’d often returned home with bruises on her face or body, and on a few occasions, she’d fractured the bones in her hand or sustained severe bruising. It hadn’t earned her a break from the training, but it had certainly made her stronger. 

In the dim light of the parking lot, she hadn’t noticed the men waiting in front of her car until it was too late. As their silhouettes filled her vision, she felt her heart erupt in her ears. 

One of them - one she recognized - took a step in her direction and crossed his arms. “606.”

***

  
  


She’d left her notebook on his floor, and truthfully, Yoosung didn’t notice it at first. It wasn’t until he’d decided to pick up after her that he noticed it, and by then, she’d been gone for a few minutes. Gasping, Yoosung grabbed the book and his keys, quickly darting out of his dorm and down the staircase. The parking lot wasn’t far, but he had no clue how fast she’d been walking; if he didn’t manage to catch up to her, he’d have to return it in class. She hadn’t given him her number, he realized. 

The parking lot was almost empty. Yoosung couldn’t help but swallow regretfully. Perhaps he should have walked her out? The thought hadn’t crossed his mind, as he’d been so focused on his LOLOL plans, but this was no environment for a small woman to be walking on her own. Worry began to settle in his bones. 

As he started down the row of cars where he knew she’d parked, he began to hear muffled voices. One of them was harsh and low, and he didn’t have to listen carefully to realize that it was a man speaking. He held his breath and used the car he’d walked behind as cover, doing his best to hear what was happening. 

“606.” The voice was curt, like steel cutting through the air. With the sun in hiding, it had gotten a lot chillier outside - perhaps he should have offered her a coat. Still, the name stuck out to him; it was almost comically similar to Seven’s nickname, and he made a mental note to tell him about it later. 

“What are you doing here?” It was Min’s voice, but she sounded...off. Frightened, almost. Yoosung swallowed again, wondering if something bad was taking place right in front of him. Had she been cornered? Did he need to step out and help her?

“Your father wishes to speak with you.” _Her father?_ Yoosung thought, frowning. The way he said it was unsettling, but if it had to do with her parents, that meant that his previous concerns were not founded. _What is going on?_

There was silence for a moment, and then he heard Min whisper, “Why?” 

“A reason isn’t necessary.” 

Yoosung didn’t like the way her voice sounded. Clenching his fist around the notebook, he stepped out from behind the car and reached the end of the row, catching sight of the familiar bumper sticker. “Min!” He shouted, as if he’d just reached their location. He didn’t want them to know he’d been spying. 

The man speaking to her looked at him harshly, and Yoosung felt his stomach flop. Slowly, Min turned to face him, her eyes wide. “Yoosung?”

He cleared his throat and held out her notebook, “You left this.” 

He watched her swallow and reach out, taking it from him. Her hands were trembling. _Why is she so scared?_

“Thank you,” She said softly. She was acting very strange. 

“Is...Is everything okay?” He scratched at the back of his head nervously, watching her face for any sign that she needed help. Slowly, she shook her head, turning away from him. 

“Everything’s okay,” She reassured, not looking at him. “Tomorrow, we can-” 

The man behind her took a step forward. “606,” He said, his voice stern. His lips were pressed in a firm line. _There it was again._ He was using the word at her as if it were her name. Suddenly, Yoosung didn’t find the similarity amusing. 

“I have to go,” She breathed suddenly, looking at him with a tight smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, Yoosung?” 

He frowned, unconvinced. “You’re really okay?” 

She opened her mouth to reply, but the man behind her cut her off. “She’s alright. Goodnight, young man.” With that, he placed a hand on her back and guided her forward, more harshly than Yoosung liked. He watched with wide eyes as Min climbed into her car with the men, only she wasn’t driving. She gazed at him through the window as the car pulled out of the lot, and as her face became invisible against the dark glass, Yoosung swore he could see the fear in her eyes. 

He grit his teeth as he returned to his dorm, unsettled by what had just taken place. He knew that he should have walked her to her car, although something seemed incredibly odd about the interaction. She seemed to recognize the men, however reluctant she was to go with them, and they’d mentioned her father...it didn’t make any sense to him. 

As he settled into his desk, his phone began to ring. He glanced at the ID and raised his brows, surprised to see Seven calling him. It wasn’t unexpected that the hacker was awake at this time, but usually, he was incredibly hard to get ahold of. He’d usually say bizarre things in the chats and then disappear, claiming his maid was coming to yell at him for some reason or another. Still, Yoosung answered on the fourth ring. 

“Seven?” 

“Hello, hello! Defender of Justice calling to check on the LOLOL addict!”

Yoosung frowned. “Huh?” 

“You were supposed to play with your guild tonight, right?” There was a chuckle from the other end of the line. 

“How did you know that?” Yoosung glanced at his computer, wondering if Seven was up to something invasive yet again. He had a ton of messages from his guild. “What did you do?” 

“You _might_ want to avoid the server for the night...Hehe.” Seven was laughing again, only harder now. “It wasn’t as funny as I thought it would be. You won’t get banned, though. That’s a seven-zero-seven promise!” 

Yoosung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, I’ll just go to bed. I have some other stuff to do, anyways.” 

The line was silent for a second. On the other end, Seven sat at his desk, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uh...Yoosung? Are you okay?”

He heard the blonde sigh again. “Yes, Seven. Why?” 

_Definitely not okay._ “Usually you’d be whining and yelling at me for hacking your account again. It’s not like you to give up on LOLOL so easily.” 

He could hear Yoosung pause, and then, “Something weird just happened.” 

His interest peaked, Seven sat up in his chair, adjusting his glasses on his face. “Oooo, some theatrics to end the night! Tell me, tell me!” 

“Well, I had a friend over for a couple of hours to work on a project for one of our classes. After she left-”

“A girl! Wow, Yoosung has finally mastered his paralyzing fear of women!” Seven was giggling, and he could only imagine the blush creeping over Yoosung’s face. 

“Seven, listen!” Yoosung whined. _Success!_ If nothing else, his teasing had brought some familiar shades of his friend back out. “ _Anyways,_ I realized after she was gone that she’d left her notebook, so I went out to the parking lot to try and catch her before she left-”

Seven leaned forward, resting his chin on a hand. “I’m on the edge of my seat! The story unfolds…~” He positioned the phone between his shoulder and his face, using both of his hands to fire off a few lines of code on the screen in front of him. He’d just finished the assignment he’d been working on for the agency, and V had asked him to look into something minor. It wasn’t _entirely_ time-sensitive, so he figured now was as good a time as any to take a break. 

“It was really weird, Seven.” Yoosung’s voice sounded odd...disturbed, almost.

Seven frowned. “Weird how?” 

“Well, I heard her talking to someone, so I stopped to listen.” 

“Eavesdropping? Tsk tsk, Yoosung, that’s impolite.”  
  
“Seven~!” Yoosung whined again. “There were these men at her car, so I stopped to listen, because I didn’t know if they were bothering her and I wanted to figure out if she needed my help.” 

Seven nodded, knowing that Yoosung couldn’t see the gesture. “Dangerous time to be walking alone,” He agreed, wondering why the blonde hadn’t walked her to her car. He supposed the campus was well-lit, and perhaps it had slipped Yoosung’s mind. 

“Yeah, I felt - _feel_ bad. They kept calling her this weird name, and they mentioned something about her dad wanting to talk to her.” 

“Weird name?” Seven frowned. Yoosung sounded unsettled, but he couldn’t deny the suspenseful value of the story. Yoosung’s storytelling abilities had certainly gotten better. 

“Yeah, I actually thought of you.” _Of me?_ Seven wondered. “They called her 606.” 

His fingers froze over the keyboard. “What?” 

“Yeah. They said it twice - once when I was hiding, and once in front of me, but they didn’t say anything else. Only one of the guys did the talking, and every time she tried to talk to me, he’d interrupt. He seemed impatient about getting her to leave.” 

“How did they say it?” Without skipping a beat, Seven minimized the window and pulled up another prompt, pulling up the school network that he’d bookmarked when spying on Yoosung for prank-related reasons in the past. “What time was this?” 

“Like it was her name. Just now, maybe twenty minutes ago. It was really weird, but that wasn’t the weirdest part…” Yoosung trailed off. Seven could hear his frown. 

Seven managed to pull up the security tapes from the parking lot cameras and rewinded to the logs from half an hour ago, a little before Yoosung said he’d found her in the parking lot. Sure enough, he saw a young woman walking down a row of cars, only to stop a few feet away from the end of the row. He couldn’t see her car in great detail, but there were three dark shapes ahead of her. He fast-forwarded a little, and soon, Yoosung came into view. As he’d said, he paused behind a car a few spots down from where she was before interrupting her conversation, and as Seven watched the interaction unfold, he realized Yoosung was calling him. 

“Seven?” 

“Sorry,” He said, sounding distracted, “I’m looking at something. What was the weirdest part?” 

“She seemed kind of scared,” Yoosung admitted, worry filling his voice. “She kept telling me that it was okay, but it seemed really rushed. It just seemed really weird to me. Parents don’t usually send third parties to get their children, right? Plus, I don’t know why she’d act so weird about going to talk to her dad.” 

“Some people don’t have good relationships with their parents,” Seven acknowledged, pursing his lips. As the tape continued rolling, he watched the young woman climb into what he assumed was her car, only the back seat. The men took the other three seats, with the one who’d spoken taking the driver’s side. _That was odd._

“Yeah, but it didn’t feel like that...I really felt like I’d seen something I shouldn’t have. She seemed like she was trying to get rid of me.” 

_This is not good._ Sighing, Seven sat back in his chair and picked up his phone with his hand. “Maybe she has some issues with her family, Yoosung.” 

“If they were family, why would they keep calling her 606, instead of her name?” Yoosung sounded unconvinced. “I’m worried about her, Seven.” 

He sighed again, closing his eyes. He really, _really_ didn’t need to add another thing to his list of tasks to complete, but he couldn’t deny the alarming characteristics of the interaction he’d seen. He couldn’t hear what was said through the security cameras, but Yoosung seemed shaken up enough to give him pause. 

“I’ll look into it,” He said finally, shifting from the parking lot camera to the traffic light at the following intersection. When the same car as before came into view, he paused it and magnified the license plate, screenshotting it and saving the file. He’d find what he could about the girl, and if possible, try to figure out where the car had gone. “When do you see her again?” 

“We have class tomorrow, and we talked about working on the project more tomorrow afternoon.”

“You could always talk to her about it.” Seven ran a hand through his hair. His night had become far more interesting than he’d originally thought it would. 

“Maybe,” Yoosung replied doubtfully, “I’ll try that. Let me know if you find anything, okay? Please?” 

Seven almost felt bad. Yoosung sounded really concerned...He wished he could have heard the conversation. “Yeah, sure, Yoosung.”

“Thank you.” 

“No problem. Oh, and avoid your guild for the night, unless you have a really good apology.” Yoosung began to protest, but Seven quickly ended the call, exclaiming, “Seven-zero-seven, out!” 

As he set the phone back on his desk, he began filtering through the street cameras, trying to map the route the car had taken. He managed to cross two streets before, much to his surprise, the car suddenly disappeared. Frowning, Seven retraced his steps in an attempt to see if he’d missed something. The car had completely disappeared, and no amount of rewinding or pausing brought him any clues. _What the hell?_




The name Yoosung had used popped into his head, and with a frustrated sigh, Seven leaned forward. It wasn’t a name, and it certainly wasn’t a nickname that random suited men gave innocent-looking young women in the dead of night. Perhaps that was a bigger clue than Yoosung realized. 

With the cameras turning into a dead end, Seven decided to search the tags instead. A short record search later, he spread the personal files on the young woman out across his monitors, golden eyes taking in the information hungrily. _Min-Seo Cho._ It was a common name...absurdly common. 

Her personal files were as clean as could be, and upon reading her family history and employment backgrounds, Seven threw his hands up in frustration. There wasn’t anything that hinted at darker elements being present in her life, and there was nothing to suggest that she had familial issues, either. For all intents and purposes, she was entirely ordinary. Almost _too_ ordinary. He squinted at the screen, the lines in his lips creasing. 

_606..._


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are consequences for taking matters into her own hands, and Mi Sun's father has never been a patient man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there are instances of abuse in this chapter, so please keep that in mind!

“ _Shit_ ,” She hissed, sucking air between her teeth. With her jaw clenched tightly, Mi Sun pressed the ice pack into her abdomen, trying her best to use a gentle touch despite her unsteady hands. She didn’t have enough ice to properly treat all of the tender spots she’d sustained in the last few hours, but she had to do what she could. If nothing else, she was thankful that her agent training had prepared her for moments like these. 

Her phone was ringing. She hadn’t glanced at it since she’d left campus, so it came as a surprise to her to see that she had a dozen missed calls from an unsaved number. Frowning, Mi Sun grabbed the device and pressed it to her ear, muttering, “Hello?” 

“ _Min!_ ” The voice on the other end was cheerful but riddled with worry. She recognized it immediately. 

“Yoosung?” She asked, pushing herself up from her spot on the living room floor. As her movements took root in her body, the aching spots all across her abdomen began to scream in protest. She _really_ needed to ice them, else she might be rendered unable to move in the following days. “How did you get my number?” 

“ _I emailed our professor. Since we’re in a group together, she gave it to me_ .” On the other end of the line, Yoosung was frowning. She sounded strained. “ _Are you okay? You sound weird.”_

She braced herself against the counter, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. “Mhm,” She said tightly, the hum of her voice dying in her throat.

“ _Min?”_ There was a pause. “ _What happened? What was all of that in the parking lot?”_

She had known that this was going to happen. _He wasn’t supposed to see that._ Yoosung viewing the interaction had thrown a wrench in the plan and only added fuel to her father’s vengeful fire. Of course, it seemed to pale in comparison to the list of things her father had found to be upset with her about. She grimaced as she reflected on the past few hours, wishing with all of her might that she could have just gone home quietly. This was her fault - if she hadn’t lingered at Yoosung’s dorm for so long, he might not have noticed, and she’d have been able to come home and return to school without any trouble. _What did I do wrong?_

She knew the answer to the question, even if it didn’t make sense to her. 

“ _Min?”_

“Don’t worry about it, Yoosung,” She breathed, trying her best to sound pleasant. Her voice was still strained, but no amount of acting would allow her to overcome the pain coursing through her body. “Everything is okay. I just had some...uh, family trouble.” As she spoke the excuse, Mi Sun rounded the corner and entered the bathroom, setting the phone on the counter and putting it on speaker. Yoosung was quiet, so she seized the opportunity to grab at the hem of her shirt and pull it over her shoulders. 

As her ribs shifted against one another with the movement, a sharp wave up pain shot up the length of her spine, eliciting an involuntary, choked groan from her throat. She bit her teeth down to try and smother the sound, but it was no use. 

“ _Min, what happened?”_ He was louder than before - he’d heard her. 

“Nothing,” She breathed, her voice trembling. Despite her body screaming at her, Mi Sun squeezed her eyes shut and finished removing the article of clothing, allowing it to fall to her feet. When she peeled her eyes open, tears were lining her vision, and she silently cursed herself for being so weak about this. “Oh my god.” 

The sight of her torso was jarring, and she couldn’t help but gasp as her eyes took in the bruises already forming across her skin. Fields of black and blue had erupted across her sides, pooling together in the center and splintering across her rib cage. On her arms, there were faint marks from where she’d been held, and when she turned to inspect them, she could faintly make out a handprint. Grimacing, she leaned forward, gripping the edge of the counter to alleviate some of the pressure. They’d left her face almost entirely untouched... _almost._ Along the edge of her bottom lip, there were faint traces of dried blood that she’d wiped off an hour prior, and her lip was swollen and red. A harsh cut ran down the middle from where her father had split her lip. 

“ _I’m really worried about you, Min,”_ Yoosung said suddenly, his voice defiant, “ _You keep telling me that you’re okay, but you don’t sound okay, and you looked really strange earlier. I...I get that it might not be my business, but I’m not stupid!”_ She could hear from the shaking in his voice that he was worried, and for a moment, she felt terrible for involving him in all of this. 

“Yoosung,” She said softly, her voice warmer than before, “You don’t need to worry so much, okay? I’m at my apartment, I just had some stuff to take care of. I promise you, I’m okay.” She tried her best to be reassuring, hoping that he would just take the bait and lay off. She couldn’t afford to give him any more to go on, else it might put him in danger, too. Sighing, she grabbed her first aid kit from underneath the sink, pulling out some antibiotic ointment and a few cotton balls. She needed to clean her lip and do her best to reduce the swelling; hopefully, she could avoid any bruising on her face. A split lip would be easier to make up an excuse for than full bruising, after all. 

Yoosung still hadn’t replied. Mi Sun dabbed at the cut in her lip with a cotton ball, unable to contain the wince that rippled across her facial features. “I’ll tell you what,” She murmured, glancing down at her phone, “If you can give me twenty minutes, I’ll take you up on that offer about LOLOL.” 

_Hook, line, sinker._ She heard something clatter on the other line, and then Yoosung chirped, “ _Oh, sure!”_ It was a very obvious distraction and Mi Sun sort of envied that he was innocent enough to fall for it. Without missing a beat, he began to chatter excitedly about his exploits in the game, giving her recommendations for questlines they could pursue and assuring her that he would go easy on her. She rolled her eyes but found the corners of her lips turning upwards nonetheless. It was short-lived, as the motion added more swells of pain, but she was happy that she’d managed to negate his worry so easily. 

After giving him her account information and promising to call him back from her computer, Mi Sun hung up the phone and set it back on the counter, honey eyes tracing over her reflection. The bruising was _bad_ , no matter how much she looked at it, and her expression contorted angrily at the marks covering her abdomen. 

“What did I do wrong?” She whispered spitefully, tying her hair into a knot behind her head. Leaning over, she sprinkled some cold water on her face and gently dabbed at her skin with a towel, careful to avoid her mouth. 

After she’d been retrieved from campus by her father’s agents, they’d taken her to a side location for the agency, claiming that her father wished to go over the details of the case with her. It hadn’t been a lie, but her father’s intentions never stopped at simple inquiries. He’d wanted to hear about her failure: how she had yet to find another lead, how she was unsuccessful in hacking the victim files, how she had nothing to go off of. When she’d shattered his ambiguous hopes by admitting she had a lead to pursue, her father had grown belligerent. 

Her biggest mistake had been defending herself. In place of scornful words or a threatening lecture, he’d stared at her in silent contempt, jaw set in a way that she knew meant nothing good. Higher-ups from an agency in Western Europe had taken an interest in her, he’d said, and should she succeed in this assignment, they’d put in for a transfer and set her up outside of London. He had no intention of allowing that to happen, and she didn’t have to hear the cruel words fall from his lips to know that. A transfer meant that she’d be out of his reach, and the thought of his daughter surpassing him in the agency was enough to drive the typically-even-tempered man mad. 

He said that the treatment she’d endured had been to remind her of her place. When he’d hit her across the skull with the butt of his gun, it was _for her own good._ When he’d ordered his agents to hold her in place while he delivered punches to her abdomen, it was _for her own good._ When she’d tried desperately to calm him and he’d split her lip open for talking back, it was _for her own good._ Then, when she’d collapsed from the pain and he’d kicked her in the ribs, more times than she’d been able to comprehend, he’d left her on the cool, linoleum floor and made his exit without another word. His agents had released her then, following him out of the room. She didn’t know how long she’d laid there, too overwhelmed to get up but too numb to cry. 

One of her supervisors had come in then, gently lifting her off the ground and pressing a handkerchief to her lip to stop the bleeding. His words had been kind, but the sentiment was as lacking as it had ever been. “ _You shouldn’t encourage him,”_ He’d said regretfully, using an arm around her shoulders to help her up. He’d checked that her ribs weren’t broken and given her a general inspection, but there was little else that he could do for her. Her father was his boss, as well, and everyone in the agency knew better than to question a man with that sort of reputation. “ _Just do your work quietly, and there won’t be much that he can do to stop you. If you can get the transfer, you’ll be safe, okay?”_

She hadn’t answered him. She’d endured this treatment so many times throughout her life that her brain seemed to switch to a default setting when it happened, numbing her to her surroundings and preventing her from truly experiencing the trauma in real-time. “ _Yes,”_ She’d said evenly, unable to meet his eyes. 

Her supervisor had sighed then, helping her out of the room. “ _I’m sorry, Mi Sun,”_ He’d murmured, squeezing her shoulder and leaving her in the doorway. He couldn’t show her any courtesy beyond that, else he’d be sticking his own neck out. 

Now, as she took in the sight of her father’s work across her ribcage, Mi Sun was boiling with anger. It seemed that no matter what she did, it was never enough, and no amount of effort on her part could change the spiteful way her father regarded her existence. As much as she hated to admit it, she _wanted_ him to accept her. He was a cruel, careless man with no concern for anyone beyond himself, but he was her father, and the child buried deep within her desperately wanted him to regard her as a father should. She’d spent her entire life bettering herself in every way possible, hoping that she could conform to fit the ridiculous standard he’d set for her, but it seemed that no matter how far she surpassed his expectations, the mold that he longed for was something unattainable. 

_Why?_ She thought darkly, gripping the edge of the counter with both hands so harshly that her knuckles turned white, _Why do I care? I hate him._

“Damnit.” The word fell like ice off of her tongue, and she finally pried her eyes away from her reflection. She didn’t want to look at it anymore. 

She quickly changed into more comfortable clothing, doing her best to keep her movements fluid despite the convulsions in her abdomen. In truth, she wanted to fall into her bed and never wake up, but she knew that abandoning her plans with Yoosung would only make him ask more questions. Her interaction with him was another thing that her father had thrown in her face, claiming that she was getting distracted from her work and did not possess the ‘luxury’ to maintain friendships. When she’d tried to explain that Yoosung was important for her coursework _and_ her assignment, her father had only grown more irate. 

Sighing, she pulled her gaming laptop off the shelf beneath her coffee table and lowered herself onto the couch, headphones perched on her head. It was a laptop her father didn’t know about, as he’d bugged her school and work computers to monitor her, and she had never felt more relieved to own it. The sides of her headphones gave off a dull blue glow as she settled against the cushions, her gaming chat spreading diligently across the screen. Yoosung had added her account and spammed her inbox with messages, sounding off about how excited he was to show her his favorite parts of the map. She quickly replied, informing him that she hadn’t played in a few months and would be unfamiliar with the recent updates, but he hardly seemed to mind. 

He greeted her cheerfully when she answered his voice call, informing her that it would only be the two of them in a party for the night. She was more thankful for that than he might have realized; Yoosung was kind and eager enough to take her words of reassurance at face-value, but she was unsure how well she’d be able to convince a group of people that the strain in her voice meant nothing. Furthermore, she was exhausted, and socializing with people she didn’t know barely fell short of the last thing she’d want to be doing. 

As the night raged on, Mi Sun spent a few hours exploring the map and completing small quests with Yoosung, doing her best to allow herself to get excited about rare loot and random trivia that Yoosung mouthed off. Any residual traces of his worry seemed to be gone, and if nothing else, she was happy to be alone in her suffering. Every moment seemed to make her regret bringing him into this more and more. 

By the time they’d said their goodbyes and she fell into her bed, she felt entirely numb to the world. She’d taken pain medication to distract her from the ache in her bones, as well as a vitamin to help her sleep. Mi Sun knew that moving around would be difficult for the next few days, but regretfully, she’d endured far worse in her career before. As her mind began to shut down, she couldn’t help but think about her assignment. She wouldn’t allow herself to harbor any hopes about being transferred out of her father’s division, but perhaps...there could be an end to this. 

Her eyes crinkled shut, and with a heavy release of breath, she fell asleep. In the morning, she could put on a smile and return to her old self, but for now, she was nothing more than a nameless agent, riddled with evidence of the harsh life she’d lived. 

In all of her haste to tend to her wounds and reassure her friend throughout the night, Mi Sun had never noticed the subtle differences littering her apartment. Had she been entirely aware of her surroundings, she might have noticed the glass left out on the counter, or the pillows in disarray on the couch. Perhaps she’d have seen that her desk chair was pushed in rather than out, as she’d left it. 

Perhaps she’d have noticed that one of the windows was open. 


	4. Prototype

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something to be said about two agents coming face-to-face. Seven can't resist the opportunity to observe the girl in question.

The sun met her groggy, swollen eyes with ferocity as it streamed through the windows of her bedroom, and with a choked groan and sigh of protest, Mi Sun did her best not to nest further into her vast array of blankets and pillows. Her bed was a queen, but she’d covered the surface of it in so many pieces of soft fabric that one could easily spot the small space she’d secured for herself, nestled right into the middle of it. She enjoyed having the extra room, but the empty space surrounding her had always made her feel oddly isolated, so she filled that void as best as she could. It wasn’t necessarily that she craved companionship, as that was a luxury that an agent constantly teetering on termination couldn’t afford, but the small nest brought her some semblance of comfort that she struggled to let go of even in her adult years. 

Stretching her arms over her head, Mi Sun felt the throbbing ache of the bruises littering her ribcage come crashing back into her consciousness all at once. Her face twisted in pain as she slipped her legs over the side of the mattress, reaching habitually for her phone on her nightstand. Typically, she kept all of her devices secured away where she could hear but not see them; giving herself that small courtesy allowed her to breathe a little easier. Still, with Yoosung pestering her so persistently for the majority of the night and - as she now saw - this morning, she felt as though she owed him some form of acknowledgment. So, with a sigh, she typed in her complicated passcode and began sorting her notifications. 

By some small grace, her professor had canceled her shared period with Yoosung due to some “extenuating circumstances”. It was an off-day for her other period, meaning that for the first time in quite a while, Mi Sun could take her time preparing for the day. She rubbed at her eyes with her hands and set her phone aside, promising herself she’d answer Yoosung’s messages after she freshened herself up for a moment, and pushed herself to her feet. 

One of the things she’d always liked about the apartment was how sunny it could be in the morning. The windows that stretched from floor to ceiling in the front room continued across that wall of the building, skipping a few structural panels and restarting in the small dining room tucked into the corner of the common room. The final piece of the trio was in her bedroom, and though she often drew her blackout curtains to make up for the hours of night she’d missed working on her agency assignments, she relished in the moments when she could pull them open and enjoy the sight for what it was. 

The coffee pot made a few stutters at her as she poured the water in, and after pressing the button, she sat back with her elbows propped up on the counter, watching the dull drip begin. Her eyes were half-lidded and heavy, and she sort of felt as though she’d been hit by public transport, but it was manageable pain. She’d taken something for the throb after first waking up, and a brief, cold shower had jump-started her senses. Still, exhaustion gripped hungrily at her small, bruised frame - the coffee might help with that. 

As she pondered over what sort of excuse she’d spoon-feed the eccentric blonde, her phone began to buzz on the counter beside her. “Oh, speak of the devil,” Mi Sun murmured, sighing heavily. She still hadn’t replied to his messages, and though she had no idea what she was going to tell him, she knew that it was a little cruel to continue hanging him out to dry. He was only concerned for her well-being, she knew, but it pained her not to be able to give him anything to go off of. It would put him in danger, and she knew that. 

“ _Min!”_ The blonde chirped cheerily from the other end of the receiver. His voice was slightly muffled by ambiance in the background, and after listening for a moment, Mi Sun realized that he was out somewhere. _Oh, he still had classes today, didn’t he?_ “ _I was beginning to think you wouldn’t answer!”_

“Right...sorry,” She said, wincing at how lackluster her apology sounded. She rubbed her free hand over her face and grabbed a mug from the rack over the sink, filling it with intoxicatingly dark liquid from the coffee pot. Her amber eyes danced as the liquid sloshed around, bubbling at the top and wafting the familiar fumes throughout the kitchen. On mornings where she really just needed to feel like a _person_ , she didn’t bother adding any filler to her coffee. Mi Sun had never turned her nose up to drinking it straight, and though she enjoyed a well-blended coffee occasionally, she was more of a classic sort. “I didn’t have classes today, so it’s been a slow morning for me. How’s school?” 

“ _Ugh, slow! I tried to look for you in the courtyard, but I didn’t see you…”_ He was quiet for a moment, and Mi Sun suspected she could hear a hint of embarrassment, “ _I didn’t realize that was your only class today. That makes sense now, haha.”_

“Yes, no need to worry,” She retorted, laughing softly. Despite her groggy start to the morning, it seemed that Yoosung’s endless reserve of energy was enough to brighten anyone’s day a little. With her mug in hand, Mi Sun stepped into the common room and bee-lined for the small chair she’d positioned skillfully in the corner by the windows, pulling the throw over her legs. She’d have pulled her legs to her chest to rest in her default position, but she had no doubts the typically-comfortable position would bring her waves of pain in her current condition. 

“ _Well, we’re still on for today, right?”_

She took a long sip from her coffee, eyebrows drawn together in the middle. _Oh, shit._ Last time she’d gone to Yoosung’s dorm, they’d made plans to work on the project more after classes today. With them canceled and no reason to visit campus, the thought hadn’t crossed Mi Sun’s mind. She chewed absently on her bottom lip, honey-hued eyes taking in the sights of the streets below. It was a nice day, and the sidewalks were filled to the brim with people enjoying the sunshine. 

“What time are you done with classes?” She inquired, taking another sip. She supposed she had no proper reason to deny him, even if she hadn’t been planning on driving to campus. 

“ _I’m heading into my last one in a few minutes, so I’ll be done in a couple of hours!”_ Yoosung paused to say something in response to someone, although she couldn’t hear what the other person was saying. “ _I can text you when I’m out if you want?”_

“Sure, that works.” Mi Sun smiled despite her doubts. She wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever, after all, and maybe his bright personality would be enough to pull her out of the small funk her father had thrown her head-first into. Of course, he’d no doubt interrogate her about her appearance and that would be a headache, but the split lip was the only injury that she couldn’t fully hide with her clothing. _Thankfully._ “I can grab us some stuff for lunch if you want.”

“ _Ooooh! Min! You’re the best!”_ His delight was almost puppy-like. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the awe in his voice. “ _Okay, I have to go, but I’ll text you! See you!”_

Without waiting for a response, Yoosung mumbled something to the person he was with and hung up, leaving her suspended in silence. Shaking her head, Mi Sun couldn’t help but smile fondly. They were the same age, but she always felt an odd sense of kinship with him when she spoke to him; Yoosung was kind and approachable and completely at odds with the world, and something about his helplessness and childlike wonder made her want to guide him in the right direction. Of course, Mi Sun had little experience in what the “right direction” looked like, exactly, but he awoke something almost...maternal in her. 

She’d never had many friends if any at all. Her father’s diligent plans for her and her agency work had kept her from interacting with many people beyond the confines of the organization, and those that she encountered within its walls were often biased, reserved, or just as fearful of consequences as anyone else. Being an agent meant being invisible, and having tangible relationships had always been deemed a risk not worth taking. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried, either; on a few occasions that she could remember, she’d had the start of something she might liken to a friendship. When she’d first been certified as an agent, she’d been paired with another young agent to gain experience under a watchful eye. Being another woman, Mi Sun had taken to her instantly. Her name - or at least, the name the agency referred to her as - had been Eun. Mi Sun hadn’t seen her in some time. 

There had been a male supervisor that had taken a liking to her in her youth as well, although not in any way that made her feel uncomfortable. _Seok._ He’d been an older member of the agency, and after many years doing fieldwork himself, he’d resigned himself to management and taken a position in her branch of the agency. This had been during the few short years her father had been stationed elsewhere, and during that time, Seok had become somewhat of a father figure that she’d desperately needed. Of course, being her supervisor, he was strict and reserved with her, but there had always been a softness in the way that he regarded her that assured her she was being taken care of. When she messed up, she was reprimanded but accepted nonetheless, and he’d done what he could to make sure that things ran smoothly for her. He’d never been shy of praising her good efforts, and that alone had been enough to draw a bridge of familiarity between them. 

Of course, his position had been short-lived. When her father had been transferred back and reinstated over their branch, he hadn’t taken fondly to someone “guiding her”. Without a word, Seok had turned in his final comments on her assignments and transferred, and she hadn’t heard from him since. 

There had been more, but Mi Sun struggled to remember all of their faces. Over time, the abrupt disappearances and fleeting interactions all seemed to blend into one another, and she’d become so accustomed to expecting the absence she knew would eventually come that she’d resigned herself to put the distance there herself. Neither Eun nor Seok had reached out since stepping out of her life, and she hadn’t expected them to. The agency just didn’t work that way - this much she knew. None of them were allowed such simple luxuries like goodbyes. 

“Ugh,” Mi Sun muttered, shaking the feeling of yearning from her head. She finished off the last of her coffee and went to rinse her cup, figuring she might as well do her best to look presentable and get things ready for her meeting with Yoosung in a couple of hours. She’d need to grab them something to eat, as she’d promised, and get some of her tools together to begin tinkering with their design. If nothing else, she was thankful for her major: there was nothing suspicious about a Computer Science major understanding basic mechanical structure and design - basic as far as he knew, anyways - and he likely wouldn’t blink an eye at her small toolbox. She had built many prototypes in her day, whether for an agency assignment or just for fun, so having to put together something that required no programming or AI installation? _Piece of cake._

  
  


***

“I don’t understand how you did that so fast.” Yoosung held the paper up in front of his face, staring at it as if she’d placed some sort of foreign document in front of him. He squinted, turning it to the side, and added, “Your English is really good.” 

“Well, I work with computers,” She replied easily, raising a brow, “Numbers are kinda my thing, you know?” She paused for a minute, holding the minuscule screwdriver in her hand as she pried the two components in her hands apart, realizing she’d fitted the trim incorrectly and disabled the full range of movement she’d been pining for. As the two pieces melded back together - correctly, this time - in her hands, she pulled the tool from her mouth and tinkered with them a bit, a concentrated look on her face. “Also, thanks. My parents insisted on a very...well-rounded education.” 

Yoosung sat on his bed with her laptop and notebooks spread out around him, fitting together resources for them to pull from for their presentation. While waiting for her arrival, he’d printed off pictures to use as references for the prototype, and upon arriving, Mi Sun had found herself pleasantly surprised with his inclination to work. She’d seen his motivation in the past, so it was certainly a change.

Mi Sun, on the other hand, had taken the floor. Spread out in a fan around her were pieces of the components, scribbles of designs, tools from her kit, and random strips of fabric and fasteners that she’d been messing around with to find the best fit. Rather than pour their energy into just one design, they’d decided to make a few of slightly poorer quality to figure out which was the best to go for. Science was about trial and error, after all, and both of them had a newfound determination to present something truly worth their efforts. 

Yoosung continued gazing at her notes and then peered at her curiously. “Do you know any other languages?” 

At his question, she felt the heat rise to the tips of her ears and across her cheeks. “Mhm,” She responded softly, tinkering with the wires in her hands. 

“No way!” He set the page down, scooting to the end of his mattress and gazing at her curiously. He was practically vibrating with curiosity, and Mi Sun couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him. “What other ones? How many?”

“Mmm...I’m fluent in a couple of others, but I know bits and pieces of lots of languages.” She set the wires down and grabbed the prototype by her foot, staring at the half-hazardly melded exterior with her lip caught between her teeth. “I’m fluent in English, Japanese, Chinese, and Spanish...I know a decent amount of French, German, and Russian...and I could maybe carry a conversation in Swedish if I really tried?” She squinted her eyes and looked at him sheepishly, raising her shoulders as if expecting him to call her a liar. 

His jaw fell open, and Yoosung sat there for a moment before speaking again. “Woah...I never knew...H-how do you learn that many?” 

She shrugged, prying a wire off of the joint and jabbing the end of her tool into it. “Like I said, my dad’s always been very diligent. It comes in handy.” At last, she pried the wire free, and using the new sliver of space she’d earned herself, Mi Sun pushed the hardcover into place and splayed both of her hands out as if offering him some sort of gift. “Voila.” 

Yoosung grinned and grabbed it from her hands, turning it over in his fingers and fiddling with small pieces here and there. “This is awesome, Min!” He exclaimed, holding it out to examine it. It was a leg prosthetic; simple but functional, it attached to a larger harness that could be fitted to the animal’s torso. They hadn’t made the harness themselves, but the one that she’d snagged from a pet supply store on her way over served well enough for the presentation. Where the prosthetic met in the middle, she had installed a joint rotation that allowed for movement lower in the leg, rather than restricting the entire limb to move in one direction - as many prosthetics on the market at the moment did. She still had to install the actual leg of the prosthetic at the bottom, but they’d both decided to do that _after_ they’d settled on a final design for the attachment piece. “You’re a wizard. You have to be.” 

She felt her face flaming again and waved him off; compliments always made her feel odd, and she was inept at accepting them. “Please. There’s no programming involved, so it’s not that big of a deal.” 

“Pft.” He stretched his arm to return the piece to her, adding, “I couldn’t do it, so it is a big deal.” 

She chuckled and set it aside, collecting the small pile of sketches she’d been using for reference to offer them a little more space on the floor. “Well, thanks, Yoosung,” She said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears. 

He flashed her a grin and nodded, his cheeks a little pink. “Of course, Min! So that’s two prototypes, right?” 

“Yes, with plans for a third.” She grabbed their first attempt with her right hand, tossing it to him. It was similar to the one she’d just finished, but rather than an emphasis on joint rotation, it was made from materials optimized for restricted comfort. They both had their perks, but as she gazed at them, Mi Sun found that she wasn’t entirely satisfied with either. “Any criticism?” 

Yoosung gazed between the two devices, tilting his head thoughtfully. Again, she saw that spark of interest in him that she hadn’t seen in the blonde before. He was genuinely passionate about their project, and the longer she saw him work at it, the more natural his part felt. She made a mental note to bring it up to him later. 

“There are things I like about both of them,” He started, motioning to the padding on the inner portion of the first prototype, “But I don’t think we’re there yet. Maybe the third time’s a charm?” 

She nodded, dipping the tip of her pen between her teeth. With a thoughtful sigh, Mi Sun grabbed her two main sketches and laid them out side by side, trying to piece together what the optimal components of both designs were. She grabbed a highlighter from the floor beside her and began making soft marks across the paper, scribbling in little notes here and there, before pulling out an entirely new sheet of paper and doing a mock sketch in the center of it. 

“What about,” She started, highlighting another portion, “We use the same materials as the first one…” She held up the first sketch and pointed to the materials she’d stapled to the page, “And the joint adjustments from the second. We could also have more than one…” 

Yoosung followed her sketch almost hungrily, before pointing to the piece on the second prototype where the joint rotated. “What if we have two of these, and we made it so that they can connect or disconnect? It would make taking it off easy, and people could adjust it for their pets depending on the length of the limb, like this…” He took the prototype in his hands and showed her what he meant, and Mi Sun felt like a lightbulb went off in her brain. 

“Oh, Yoosung, that’s a great idea!” She exclaimed, hurriedly jotting the idea down and showing him. He grabbed the pen gently from her fingers and added a scribble of his own, and she let out an excited sound. “Genius!” 

“Oh, no,” He said sheepishly, sitting back and running his fingers through his hair, “Haha, I just thought that would be more convenient.”

“You have a knack for this kind of thing,” Mi Sun chirped, grinning brilliantly at him. She could see the rosy hue returning to his cheeks, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he liked having his talents acknowledged. “I’m telling you, Yoosung, you need to do something with animals in your career. You’ve been on fire today.” 

“Min, stop~” He whined, covering his face with his hands. Still, she could see that he was smiling. After a moment, he peeked at her through his fingers and whispered, “Thanks.” 

He was the color of a tomato, and Mi Sun opened her mouth to make a jab at him, but ultimately decided to let him have the moment uninterrupted. A comfortable blanket of silence settled over them then, filling the room as they both messed with things in their hands. Mi Sun was adding last-minute touches to the sketch, and Yoosung was looking into something on the laptop, but she didn’t notice his eyes continuously shifting over the frame of the screen to gaze at her. His eyes were clouded with something she wouldn’t have been able to read, but he looked like he wanted to say something; still, his words died in his throat. Should he be the one to interrupt the silence? 

“Min?” He asked softly, his voice more sentimental than before. “I haven’t asked yet because I didn’t want to make anything uncomfortable...and I know you said that you’re okay, but...what happened? The other night?” 

Her tool froze in her hand. “Yoosung, I told you, it was a family iss-”

“I know! I know that.” He gazed down at his hands, fiddling uncomfortably with them in his laptop. He’d set the laptop to the side and turned so that he faced her, but despite his confidence in bringing up the topic, he seemed reluctant to press her about it. “But you’re different today.” 

“Different?” She frowned, turning the tool back and forth in her fingers. She didn’t think she’d been acting _that differently_. 

“I don’t know how to describe it. You just seem like something changed.” He lifted his eyes to hers then, and for a moment, Yoosung almost looked...sad? She felt her heart lurch in her chest. “Your lip wasn’t like that before.” 

Without thinking, Mi Sun tenderly pressed a finger to the cut on her bottom lip, and she clenched her jaw to avoid wincing in front of him. “Oh, right,” She said absent-mindedly, trying her best to keep her voice even. She’d figured that he’d bring it up at some point, but she’d gotten so caught up in their project that she’d forgotten there was such an elephant in the room, “This...doesn’t have to do with that. I just fell.” 

His face scrunched up, and she wasn’t entirely sure what the expression meant. “You fell?” 

She forced out a chuckle. “Mhm! Corner counters are very unforgiving when you slip getting out of the shower.” She shook her finger as if warning him, doing her best to make it as believable as she could. As her words settled into the air, she added a reassuring smile just for good measure, hoping that it would be enough for him. 

“Oh,” He said, wincing at the imagery she’d given him, “That sounds like it hurt.” 

She chuckled again, “Sure, but I’m a tough cookie. I’m okay, Yoosung, I promise.” 

His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, but eventually, he gave a soft bob of his head and grabbed the laptop again. “Okay, I believe you,” He said, pressing a few words onto the screen, “But if anything is going on, you better tell me! I can help more than you think, you know!” 

The relieved sigh she’d been holding fell from her lips, followed by a ghost of a smile. “Of course, Yoosung. Wanna beat up my bathroom counter for me? I could have lost a tooth, you know.” 

He laughed softly, and Mi Sun was happy to see the ease settling back into his posture. He believed her, and he wasn’t going to pry, and that meant that he’d be safe. She hated lying to him, but she’d rather him be content and in the dark than following after loose ends as they slipped between his fingers; she knew that feeling all too well, and Yoosung was far too bright a light for her to pull the shades on him. She parted her lips to add to her joke but was interrupted by a sound from the door.

“Oh!” Yoosung hopped up then, as if he’d just remembered something important. “Right! I forgot to tell you, my friend needed to stop by for a minute. He shouldn’t be long though - sorry!” He carefully worked his way around the piles on the floor, heading for the entryway to let the guest in. 

“No worries,” She said warmly, trying her best to straighten her tools, “I’m sorry I’ve made such a mess-” 

“Don’t apologize!” Yoosung’s voice bounced off of the furniture behind her, and without looking, she listened as he opened the door and greeted whoever had come to see him. Another, slightly deeper voice filled the room as the person entered, but Min was too caught up in the sketch in her lap to spare a glance in the newcomer’s direction. “Sorry, we’re working on schoolwork right now. Step carefully! Don’t break anything!” Whoever it was, Mi Sun couldn’t help but smile at the whiny way Yoosung nagged at them. 

“I expected worse,” The deeper voice quipped. 

“Hey, I’m clean!” Yoosung protested, clearly embarrassed. He reappeared in front of her again, leaning his weight against the end of his bed. His cheeks were puffed out and red, but he smiled at her and motioned to his visitor. “Anyways, Min, this is Seven. Seven, this is Min. Don’t do anything weird!” 

Prying her eyes from her notes, Min followed Yoosung’s eyes to the man standing behind her and tilted her head at him curiously. “Seven?” She asked softly, chuckling, “Like the number?” 

The redhead adjusted his glasses as he gazed at her - the strangest glasses she’d ever seen, no less - and jutted his thumb into his chest. “It’s actually Agent 707, Defender of Justice, but Yoosung has no respect for authority.” He said the last bit with his hand to the side of his mouth as if he were on stage, although Yoosung could clearly hear him. Despite the blonde’s sound of protest, Seven jutted a hand out to her and looked at her expectantly. “Nice to meet you.” 

She set her tools down and took it, giving it a gentle shake. “Nice to meet you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on this chapter! I went back to work and immediately got a tonsil infection, so despite my best efforts, it was a struggle to write this how I wanted it while bedridden. I hope that you enjoy!


	5. Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven knows that there's more going on with Min than meets the eye, but he can't put his finger on it. When things take a confusing turn, he seizes an opportunity to find some answers.

There wasn’t any _real_ reason for him to be here. Seven rarely made housecalls, if at all, and Yoosung’s dorm wasn’t exactly within walking distance of his bunker. He’d only been there a small handful of times, usually after bringing Yoosung home from a night where the blonde’s horrible lack of self-control concerning liquor had overcome him, and each interaction had been more of a brief, in-and-out thing. Were it not for his exceptional memory, he wouldn’t have known how to get there at all. 

Still, Seven had known this was necessary the moment Yoosung had let slip that his friend would be over again today. He’d been running desperate background checks on loose ends from her files since the moment Yoosung had brought her odd interactions to his attention, but much to his dismay, he’d found absolutely nothing. It was the first time in a long time that Seven had felt truly stumped, and like any sore loser, he wanted to figure out what he was doing wrong. 

He’d mulled over a variety of excuses but ultimately decided that he’d offer to bring Yoosung a small case of Honey Buddha chips as an apology for upsetting his entire guild. It was a common occurrence, but the blonde knew better than to turn down Seven willingly dishing out such a delectable - and hard to come by, no less - treat without any cost or special tricks. He’d practically shouted in agreement when Seven had first mentioned it. 

He’d circled the parking lot a handful of times before spotting her car. Besides random materials for school and other personal items, he hadn’t been able to see anything suspicious without _fully_ invading her privacy; he would have, but breaking into a college student’s car in broad daylight wasn’t exactly a calculated move, and Seven hadn’t decided she was inherently malicious enough to justify such a breach. 

His timing in reaching Yoosung’s door was a stroke of fortune he hadn’t been expecting. He could hear his friend’s voice filtering softly through the frame, with another, much softer voice replying to him. Seven couldn’t make out every word, but without shame, he pressed his ear to the door and did his best to hear what they were saying. 

“ _You just seem like something changed.”_ There was a pause. “ _Your lip wasn’t like that before.”_

Seven paused, his breath hitched in his throat. _Had something happened to her?_ He’d figured, of course, that her abrupt disappearance with a group of inconspicuously-dressed men calling her by some sort of codename wouldn’t mean anything pleasant, but he still didn’t like the thought of it. He knew all too well how his world worked, and while he couldn’t make any guesses about the sort of issues she’d gotten herself caught up in, he could sympathize with Yoosung’s sentiment. 

“ _Oh, right,”_ She replied after a moment, prompting Seven to lean back against the door. There was something strange about her tone, but Seven didn’t know her enough to recognize what it was. “ _This...doesn’t have to do with that. I just fell.”_ He wanted to groan - she _fell?_ Could she think of a more textbook lie? Of course, accidents happened, but surely she could recognize her poor excuse in the light of an unfortunate series of events predating it. 

Yoosung sounded unconvinced, and Seven was proud of him for it, but his friend wasn’t done speaking. The odd tone in her voice was replaced with cheeriness and dismissive chuckles, and Seven could tell that she was doing her best to spur the conversation onto something else. Whatever had happened to her, she had no intention of talking about it, but he had the feeling that it was less to cover her tracks and more out of a sense of tenderness for Yoosung. 

Mulling on that thought, he knocked on the door. There was a sound from inside, and moments later, Yoosung appeared in the doorway in front of him with a friendly smile. “Hey, Seven!” 

“Heya,” Seven said cheerily, motioning to the box propped under his arm. 

Yoosung’s eyes brightened like a child’s. “You really brought them!” He quickly stepped out of the way and pulled the door further open to allow Seven inside, and as Seven stepped past him, he continued, “Sorry, we’re working on schoolwork right now. Step carefully! Don’t break anything!”

Seven waved him off and found a place to set the box down on a table near the door. He knew that Yoosung had never been the most diligent about keeping his dorm clean, but this mess was far more calculated than what he’d expected. He said as much, murmuring, “I expected worse,” and turned to take in the scene spread out before him. 

The girl in question sat in the center of the floor with her back to him, surrounded by countless piles of what appeared to be notes, sketches, and printed reference photos of some contraption he couldn’t make out from the distance. She had a small box open beside her, and as he squinted at it, he realized it was a toolkit for robotic systems. _Didn’t expect that one._ A few of the slots were empty, and as he continued taking in the sight in front of him, he realized that they were scattered around the floor. _Is she building something?_

Yoosung’s protests fell on deaf ears, but he caught Seven’s attention when he said his name, exchanging a lazy introduction between the two strangers. _Min,_ He repeated internally, figuring it was a nickname that Yoosung had given her. He committed the sound of it to memory. 

Finally, she seemed to pry her attention from whatever she was working on, and when she turned to him, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He’d seen a photo of her when he’d gazed at her file, but a pixelated image and a real-life application were two vastly different things. There was something soft and inviting about her features, with a warm hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Her eyes were honey-colored and bright, but something swirled in them that caught him off guard. With a swallow, Seven realized that she was gazing at him with the same burning inquisitiveness that he possessed for her.

“Seven?” She chuckled. _She had a nice voice._ “Like the number?” 

Despite himself, Seven managed to regain his cheery persona and flashed a grin at her, adjusting his glasses. “It’s actually Agent 707, Defender of Justice, but Yoosung has no respect for authority.” As the nickname fell from his lips, he swore that the small flame he’d seen in her eyes only seconds before sparked interest once again, and not just shallow inquiry about his odd title. “Nice to meet you.” 

She took his outstretched hand with a small shake and a firm squeeze, repeating his greeting back to him. Despite the contrast of the size of their hands, her handshake held its own, and Seven could tell that this was a superficial form of greeting that she’d practiced - or had been made to practice - countless times. It was a very subtle thing to notice, but such details were the kinds of things he’d spent years training to pick up on. Any minuscule thing that he could find out about her might make a world of difference in his intellectual pursuits against the secrets he felt that she bore. 

Once again, the notes littered across the ground caught his attention. Seven bent at the waist and grabbed one, amber eyes expertly picking apart the numbers and measurements she’d written down. _She knows computers,_ He thought curiously, not failing to notice where she’d written in English, as well. 

“What are you two working on?”

Yoosung perked up then, and much to his surprise, Seven found that the younger guy seemed excited to talk about school for the first time in a while. “It’s a project for one of our lectures; we had to design a project that puts our course material into real-world applications, so Min and I are working on an animal prosthetic.” He picked up one of the two devices that were on the floor, handing it to Seven. 

As the prototype met his fingers, Seven couldn’t help but be impressed at the way the device had been fitted together. It was clearly her doing rather than Yoosung’s, unless his friend possessed some wealth of engineering skills that the redhead had never known about. The components were placed without error, and when he moved the joint rotation she’d fastened in the center, he found that it glided very easily. 

“This is actually...really cool,” He mused, turning it over in his hands. His eyes fell from the prosthetic to the girl on the ground beneath him, and he raised a brow at her, “You made this?” 

Almost instantly, the skin of her cheeks began to burn a rosy hue, and Seven couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Yeah, Min’s so smart!” Yoosung had begun to organize the notes spread out around his bed, and he handed a stack of them to his redheaded friend, who took them almost hungrily. Again, there were notes in English, and as he thumbed through the pages, he could see where she’d scrawled small equations. He’d guessed this already, but Min possessed a level of intelligence that only intrigued him more. “She’s a computer science major, but she knows all kinds of stuff! She did all of this in just a couple of hours.”

Again, Seven found himself surprised. Building something so simple wouldn’t have been a hard task for him, but to see someone else do it with the same amount of ease was something he hadn’t experienced before. “Ooooh~” He teased, lowering his weight and dropping to the ground beside her. He grabbed for her toolkit without asking permission and began to glance through it, wondering just how extensive her preparations were. “It’s not every day you run into such a talented lady, you know. I must admit,” He put a hand to his chest dramatically, lowering his head, “I am honored.” 

Despite him grabbing her toolkit without asking, he didn’t notice any change in behavior from her that showed that she minded. Whether or not she was suspicious, any person would react just a _little_ to someone grabbing their things without permission, so the fact that she continued to watch him with that quiet, inquisitive look in her eyes almost made him uneasy. Either she was truly calm-natured and had no concern for strangers going through her things, or the minuscule changes he’d been pining for were something she’d learned to cover. The latter was not exactly a favorable outcome. 

“That’s not all!” Yoosung, content to brag about his friend, perked Seven’s attention once again, “She’s probably smarter than you, Seven. You know, Min knows, like, six different languages, and-”

“ _Yoosung,_ ” Her voice interrupted him, and Seven didn’t have to spare a glance to hear her embarrassment. 

“Smarter than me? Yoosung, how could you?” Seven scrunched up his face and mocked a pout, drawing a chuckle out of the girl next to him. _He liked that sound._ Still...what Yoosung had mentioned was curious. Whether she was a genius, prodigy, or a lucky student, small pieces of information were beginning to paint a curious image in his head. What business did what appeared to be a normal, hard-working student with a picket-fence family background have knowing an array of different languages, understanding complex mechanical algorithms, and owning a professional-grade robotics toolkit? To anyone else, they might have seemed like clues that could be chalked up to coincidence, but to a sore loser, no lead was too small to follow.

“Have you eaten?” Yoosung asked suddenly, tucking his hands under his legs and gazing at his friend with bubbling excitement. It wasn’t often that Seven ventured beyond the walls of his bunker, but Yoosung likely saw more of him than most others in their organization. The blonde was naive, positive, and had little understanding of the darkness that lurked in the world around him; for Seven, surrounding himself with someone that possessed such unwavering innocence was far safer an option. Of course, he still took the proper measures to distance himself as he did with anyone else, but even secret agents needed companionship now and then...and Vanderwood wasn’t cutting it. 

“Mm, the usual,” Seven mused, pointing a finger gun at his friend and grinning. His lack of consideration for his nutrition was infamous, and he’d been on the receiving end of many a lecture about the hazards of only ingesting chips and soda, but he had no plans to stop. 

Yoosung groaned, shooting upwards onto his feet. “Seven! You need to eat!” Without further protest, he gathered the materials littered around the bed and handed the stack to Min, who took them with a puzzled expression. “We were going to grab some food anyways, right Min?” 

Her puzzled expression only seemed to deepen, and Seven couldn’t help but raise a brow at the obvious scheme his friend was concocting. Motioning to the boxes a few feet away from her, Min gave Yoosung a pointed look and murmured, “I mean, we had those earlier-”

“Well, I’m hungry again.” Yoosung’s determination was hard to deny, and Seven already saw where this was going. “We should take a break anyway! You’ve been working really hard, Min.” 

“I’m used to it,” She muttered, more of an afterthought than a retort. As the soft words fell from her lips, Seven snapped his gaze back to her face. It was hard to genuinely study her as they sat awkwardly in Yoosung’s dorm room, so perhaps an outing with her in tow would be beneficial for his personal operation. He knew that he shouldn’t, but...his curiosity was burning a hole inside of him. 

“Alright.” The redhead put a hand on each hip as if he’d reached a monstrous decision, meeting Yoosung’s eyes. “Just this once.” 

***

The split in her lip was not something she’d acquired from falling. The line was asymmetrical, which told him she’d gotten the wound at an angle. There was no bruising, as one would assume accompanied blunt force, and didn’t seem to have any teeth-related injuries. It was entirely possible she’d bitten down on it when she’d fallen, but the shape of the cut didn’t match the angle that her teeth would have hit her lip. He couldn’t discern what had happened, but it hadn’t been a fall. 

There was an odd stiffness to her movements that first caught his attention during their walk towards the plaza. Despite her carefree attitude and outward energy, her movements always seemed half a step behind their intention. Initially, it had been her effortless grace that he’d been watching; it wasn’t quite as musical as it sounded, but rather like a well-oiled machine, as if she’d been carefully calculating each ounce of energy she used. It wasn’t something a normal person would have noticed. There was never a wasted movement, and even in moments where she seemed without a care in the world, her posture was always defensive in subtle ways, like a proper stance in her feet or an arm drawn across her torso. 

Still, he didn’t think the stiffness was intentional. In opposition to her doll-like movements, she seemed riddled with tension. Any time she had to twist her torso or shift her arms, he caught the subtle ripples in the muscles on her face as if she were masking discomfort. _Is she injured somewhere else?_ He’d wondered a few times now, frustrated that he had no means of finding out without being invasive. 

The longer he studied her, the more puzzled he became. She seemed every bit as ordinary as her file had suggested, but there were aspects to her that he hadn’t expected. Her voice was soft but she was well-spoken, and Seven could tell that she’d been extensively educated. When she smiled it was genuine, but there was always a mask of doubt in her eyes that Seven almost recognized. She oozed easy confidence but seemed unsure of herself at the same time. There was a disparity between her expressions and the emotion in her eyes. 

The most perturbing thing was the way she gazed at him. He only ever observed her when he was sure that she wasn’t looking, but in the few moments he’d spare a glance at Yoosung or study the plaza around them, he could feel her picking him apart with the same intensity in her eyes. He didn’t like the feeling. 

The same soft voice he’d been scrutinizing so closely was what finally drew him from his inner study. “Seven?”

“Huh?” He blinked a few times, adjusting his glasses on his nose. Min sat across from him with curious eyes, her chin resting dutifully on her hands. “Oh, sorry, I zoned out.” 

The corners of her lips twitched with a knowing smile. “No worries. Are you not a fan of crowds?” She shifted her eyes from his face to the plaza beyond them, where students and people alike mulled about the shops and restaurants. 

The corner booth that they’d secured in the small, hole-in-the-wall cafe offered them a great vantage point of the street without subjecting them to the blazing sunshine, which Seven was thankful for. The atmosphere inside was quiet save for the soft conversations coming from the tables around them, in addition to the gentle piano flowing from the speakers overhead. The interior was dark but clean, and possessed a cozy feel that lessened some of the hacker’s nerves - it appeared she’d picked up on that. 

“Why do you ask?” He wondered in a musical tone. Behind her, he could see Yoosung speaking pleasantly to someone at the end of the counter as he waited for their food. 

She lifted the mug in her hands to her lips, gazing at him over the rim of it. She hadn’t ordered any food despite Yoosung’s insistence. “Just a hunch,” She said pleasantly, somehow effortlessly charming. “You look like you’re always planning an escape route.” 

It was blunt and to-the-point, but not in a rude way. Amused, Seven retorted, “Am I that obvious?” He tapped his fingers on the tabletop a few times, “You’re quite the detective.” 

Min laughed, and Seven was almost proud to hear it. _Wait, what?_ “I’m coming for your title.” 

He scoffed, eyes widening dramatically, “Min, how could you?” He shook his head as if she’d deeply offended him. “How will I be the Defender of Justice if I’m usurped? This is a crime against humanity.” 

“Who will defend the Defender of Justice, hm?” Something in her smile softened, and she let out a comfortable sigh. 

As she gazed out the window beside them, Seven couldn’t help but watch her. He’d spent so long scrutinizing her on such a molecular level that he hadn’t noticed the things right in front of him, and all at once, they occurred to him. There were faint circles under her eyes from where she hadn’t been sleeping properly, but she still looked full of life. She watched the world beyond them with detached interest, and for a moment, Seven thought he saw something almost...wishful. She was observing, as she’d said, but she looked as though she were watching the world play out before her rather than being a part of it. It made something in the pit of his stomach twist. 

There was a gentle breeze stirring outside, and with the canopy above them blowing wistfully back and forth, speckles of sunlight filtered through the window and settled atop her head like a crown. Caught in shards of the light, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes with that same soft, knowing smile. 

She was very pretty. 

“You have a staring problem, you know.” 

Caught in the act, Seven stammered out an apology and did his best to find Yoosung’s face, wondering what on _earth_ was taking the blonde so long. His face was a deep shade of crimson that spread out to his ears and matched his hair, putting his embarrassment at being caught on full display. 

As if on cue, Yoosung slid into the booth beside her with a tray full of food, announcing his return with delight. “Finally! Sorry for the wait, the line got really long all of a sudden.” He pulled Seven’s order from the tray and set it in front of him, and the hacker was _very_ grateful to have something to pour his attention into. “Are you sure you don’t want anything, Min?” 

There was amusement swimming in her honey-colored eyes. “No thanks, Yoosung. I’ll be fine with just a coffee.” She peered over the blonde’s shoulder at the food he was dutifully tearing into. “I’ll try that next time, though.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments as they ate, with a few comments here and there from Yoosung about things he’d seen in the shops they’d passed. As his rambles continued, the blonde seemed to remember something and shot Seven a pointed glare, prompting the hacker to freeze mid-bite. 

“What?” 

“That guy that I was talking to was in my guild, you know!” Yoosung chirped, puffing his cheeks out. So he _still_ hadn’t let it go. “Your little stunt ruined their dungeon run. Luckily, they could tell that it wasn’t me, but still~! Stop hacking my game!” 

Seven choked on his food. Well, the cat was out of the bag. Sparing Min a glance, he could see that she’d raised a brow in response to the exclamation. 

“Oh, no,” She mused, a smirk ghosting across her lips, “The Defender of Justice is a hacker? What a scandalous turn of events.” 

He did his best to recover from his choking fit by washing his food down with his drink, thankful for the familiar taste of Ph.D. Pepper. After a few coughs, he threw his hands up, whining, “ _Yoosung,_ I apologized already! I even gave you Honey Buddha chips!”

“Bribery.” Min was enjoying herself. “Seven, I’m surprised at you.” 

As much as he wanted to curse Yoosung for letting the information slip, Seven figured it would have happened sooner or later. Yoosung wasn’t the best with playing his cards close to his chest and Seven couldn’t monitor him all the time, so he’d had to consider that Min would find out about his not-so-legal exploits. He wasn’t _that_ concerned; knowing that he was a hacker didn’t mean she’d be able to find or catch him, and regardless of the secrets he suspected she possessed, there was little she’d be able to do with such a generic lead. 

That didn’t make him any less flustered at her teasing, though. 

“Hey, I’m ethical!” He protested. 

“Sure you are.” She was smiling at him over the rim of her mug again. 

Yoosung gazed between them with his brows raised, clearly surprised at their sudden rapport. “Besides pulling pranks,” He said stubbornly, “He’s a good guy, so don’t worry, Min!” 

“See?” Seven flashed her a brilliant smile and crossed his arms in triumph, shaking red locks from his eyes. “I will not have my great title - Agent 707 - slandered.” 

For a moment, something shifted in her eyes. It was gone almost as soon as he’d noticed it, but he’d seen it. She set her mug down on the table and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, settling back into the booth. “Fine,” She conceded, quickly recovering from her small misstep in her behavior, “Innocent until proven guilty.” 

Seven gave a dramatic bow and crumbled all of his trash together, setting the small pile back on the tray Yoosung had brought. Yoosung, who’d also finished his food, followed suit and gathered the tray. “I’ll go toss this! I might grab something sweet.” He grinned hungrily, his eyes dancing with prospects of things he’d seen on the menu. 

Min chuckled as he slipped from the seat and disappeared, but her expression suddenly faltered. Seven thought he could hear something buzzing, but when he held his breath and tried to listen, the sound had disappeared. Min shifted uncomfortably and gazed at him then, lips parted to allow a breath to slip through. 

“I’ll be right back,” She murmured, excusing herself from the table as well, “Can you watch my stuff?” 

“The Defender of Justice is on the case!” He announced, heart skipping a beat at the relieved smile that spread across her face. She quickly disappeared down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and Seven was left to his own devices at the table. 

She’d left her phone. 

He _knew_ that he shouldn’t and that Yoosung could come back at any moment, but the hacker’s fingers twitched at his sides as if begging him to give in. Of course, when he’d first decided to visit Yoosung in hopes of gaining some insight on his mysterious new companion, Seven had considered the possibility that an opportunity like this might arise. He’d gone over the best way to bug her without her knowing, and after mulling over a series of routes he could decide to take, he’d reached a single conclusion that _might_ have consequences, but the risk was something he deemed necessary. 

If he was going to do it, he needed to do it now. 

Seven grabbed her phone with his left hand and the cord rolled expertly in his coat pocket in his right, quickly shoving the plug into the port and booting up his phone. He’d been careful to keep his device concealed the entire time he’d been with them to keep the cord connected, just in case. Her phone passcode was simpler than he’d expected it to be - _odd_ \- and he got through it in seconds, watching as the screen flashed a light at him and began to spam lines of code. His own phone showed a similar screen, but there was a small progress bar in the center; rather than bugging her phone or downloading a monitoring software, he’d come up with something _far_ more creative. 

The plan was simple: Seven had prepared a copy of the RFA app he’d created in advance, and now that he had a moment, he was installing the copy on her device. It was subtle, inconspicuous, and _entirely_ under his control, so he wouldn’t have to rely on an outside source to relay information back to him. She’d notice it without a doubt, and when that happened, Seven was fully prepared to begin his performance. 

He was going to pretend to be hacked. He’d grant Min access to the chatrooms under the guise of an outside attack, and when V no doubt inquired about the security breach, he’d recommend that they allow her to stay for surveillance. V trusted him, and Seven knew that if he told the man it was the best course of action, he’d listen. Then, with her under such close surveillance, he’d have access to her device as well as the networks she connected to - including her home network. If there was anything suspicious happening, he’d see it. It was fool-proof. 

No sooner had the app finished installing and he’d set her phone back down where she’d left it did Yoosung reappear at the end of the booth, prompting Seven to startle and shove his hands into the pockets of his coat. 

“Oh, did I scare you?” Yoosung questioned, sliding into the seat and raising his eyebrows at the redhead. “That’s rare.” 

“That’s just what I want you to think,” Seven quipped back, tapping his temple as if it had been part of some plan. His heart was racing and his hands were clammy, but Yoosung didn’t need to know that. 

“Where’s Min?” 

Seven motioned towards the hallway, “Bathroom, I’m guessing.” 

Yoosung made a noise of acknowledgment, shoving a piece of the pastry he’d acquired in his mouth. Seven watched as delight spread across his softened features, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the reaction. Yoosung was so easy to please. 

“What do you think of Min?” Yoosung tore off another piece, popping it into his mouth. He was practically bouncing in excitement as he tore into the dessert, but he paused in his display to fix Seven with a curious look, clearly waiting for his friend’s approval. 

“She’s nice,” Seven said, brows drawing together in the middle, wondering why Yoosung seemed so interested. He hadn’t ever doubted she’d be nice in the first place. 

“You know what I mean!” Yoosung seemed more serious about it suddenly and leaned forward on his elbows with a cautious glance toward the hallway. “You said that you would look into it. Did you find anything?” 

Seven spared a cautious glance at the hallway as well, wishing that Yoosung had at least waited until Min wasn’t at risk of walking back at any moment before bringing it up. “Not quite,” He lied, adjusting his glasses, “But not to worry! I’ll be sure to tell you if I do!” He jutted a finger in Yoosung’s direction and grinned, bobbing his head up and down. 

“Sorry about that.” There was a voice from the end of the table, and this time, both men jumped at the sound. Seven’s eyes quickly snapped from Yoosung’s face up to Min’s, and he felt his stomach hit the floor. 

She was paler than before, and although she was smiling, the expression was tight and didn’t reach her eyes. She stood at the end of the table with her hands limp at her sides, but he could see her fidgeting absently with the fabric of her shirt. Her eyes were detached and void of the swimming emotion he’d seen before, and it was haunting. 

“Are you okay? Are you sick?” Yoosung’s posture straightened, and a frown quickly settled into the lines of his face. “You look pale.” 

“Yeah, I think I’m, um,” She motioned in front of her face as if trying to find the words, “That coffee upset my stomach or something. It’s alright! I actually need to go.” 

“Already?” Yoosung sounded disappointed, but grabbed her things from the booth nonetheless and pushed them in her direction. 

She glanced between them, but she wouldn’t meet Seven’s eyes. _Is this how she was acting the other night?_ He wondered, golden gaze studying Yoosung’s reaction. Before, she’d been calm, collected, and seemed to make no missteps in her attitude or demeanor. He’d watched her for hours, and yet he hadn’t seen a _single_ shred of suspicious behavior. Now, she seemed as if she were barely containing something darker brewing inside of her. It wasn’t malicious, from what he could see, but he didn’t feel good about it. _What is going on?_

“Yeah, I…” Min trailed off, tucking hair behind her ear. She did that when she was uncomfortable, Seven had noticed. “I have some work to do, anyways. I didn’t mean to be out this long.” She shouldered her bag and tucked her phone inside of it. 

“Oh, okay,” Yoosung sighed, standing, “Well I can walk you back to your-”

  
“Oh, no, that’s okay.” She said it quickly but with a smile, her eyes falling shut to make the expression more genuine. “I’ll be fine. You guys enjoy yourselves.” 

“Are you sure?” Yoosung looked at her with doubt clear on his face. 

“Mhm! I’ll let you know when I get home.” Finally, her eyes met his. Her hands were folded in front of her, and he could see that her fingers were shaking. “It was very nice to meet you, Seven.” 

He didn’t know if there was anything he could do for her. She seemed intent to go off on her own, and he couldn’t very well follow her without arousing her suspicion or including Yoosung in his thought process. “I feel the same!” He said cheerily, hoping he could ease her discomfort in some way. “Let’s do this again.” 

Again, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes. “Goodnight.” 

The door chimed as she left, and in her absence, he and Yoosung simply stared at one another. 

“I see what you mean by weird,” Seven said finally, letting out the small breath he’d been holding. “Is that how she was last time?” 

“Sort of.” Yoosung had an odd expression on his face. 

“What?” Seven squinted at him, tilting his head. 

“She seemed less scared than last time. I just…” Yoosung trailed off, fidgeting with his hands on the tabletop. He’d finished his pastry while discussing her behavior before she’d come back, and now he tore absently at the paper. “I don’t like seeing her like that.” 

Seven didn’t comment on that. He didn’t know her very well, obviously, but he’d been earnest when he’d said that she seemed like a nice enough person. While he was suspicious of whatever she was hiding, he didn’t think she was doing anything intentionally, or at least not with bad intent. Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything about her that made him skeptical. Uneasy, yes, but in a different way. 

Seven recalled Yoosung offering to inquire about it. “Did you talk to her?” Of course, he’d heard the conversation, but there might have been something he’d missed. 

“Yeah, but she just insisted that she was okay. She said she split her lip in a fall.” 

“Do you believe that?” 

“I don’t know.” Yoosung looked conflicted. He ran his fingers through his hair and pressed his forehead into the tabletop, groaning against its surface. “Ugh, Seven~! I’m so worried I can’t stand it! I don’t know what to do for her.” 

Seven sighed, poking Yoosung in the top of the head from across the table. “Hey, perk up, we’ll figure it out! I told you I’d keep an eye on it, and I will, okay?” 

He watched the blonde’s shoulders sag with the weight of his sigh, but eventually, Yoosung regained his posture. “Yeah, okay.” 

There was a buzz in his pocket, and wincing, Seven realized that he’d used up all of his time - more than the amount he’d been allotted, but oh well. “Come on,” He mused, hopping to his feet and shoving his hands into his pockets, “It’s getting late, so we should head back. I have some other work to do, too.” 

“So you’re ditching me, too?” Yoosung looked at him pitifully. 

Seven couldn’t help but snicker at his expression. “Aw, does Yoosungie love my company~?” He raised a brow and put a hand on his hip, his voice growing louder, “I suppose if it would make poor Yoosungie happy, I can stay just a _little_ -”

“Okay, you ruined it. Let’s go.” Yoosung grumbled under his breath and grabbed his trash, abandoning the booth. “And stop calling me that!” 

Seven snickered as he followed the blonde out of the cafe, happy to see him slowly resorting back to his chirpy attitude. Before long, Yoosung was explaining a new LOLOL event to him with animated motions and expressions, and as Seven listened dutifully, he did his best not to tease the college student _too_ much. 

It wasn’t until Yoosung shut the door to his room and Seven was heading back to his car that his saccharine grin began to slip from his face. He hadn’t seen Yoosung this consistently downtrodden about something in months, and while he could understand why, he hated to see the blonde slipping back into the behaviors he’d exhibited after Rika’s death. It had been a very dark time for the college student, and now that he was on the mend - more or less - Seven didn’t want to see that growth disappear. 

Of course, things were never that simple. 

He couldn’t take his mind off of the panicked look in her eyes as she’d left the entire way home. Her pale complexion and shaking fingers were textbook characteristics of anxiety, but he couldn’t fathom what it was that had inspired the change. She’d gazed at the two of them like a cornered animal, and her refusal to meet his eyes, specifically, only perplexed him further. Did it have to do with that knowing glint in her eyes? Did she suspect something about him, too? 

Upon returning to the bunker, Seven didn’t have the luxury of mulling over the details of their encounters throughout the day. He had a pile of work waiting for him, and by putting it off for just a few hours, he’d already screwed up his entire schedule. He doubted he’d be sleeping tonight, but the hacker was far too used to his abnormal sleep schedule to mind it that much. Furthermore, the last thing he needed was Vanderwood barking insults - or ‘encouragement’, as he called them - at his neck. 

He worked for hours, only stopping to get himself another Ph.D. Pepper or briefly rub at his eyes and pray his exhaustion would go away. The assignment he had wasn’t challenging, but the timeline was strict and the guidelines were thorough - two of his least favorite criteria. After what felt like an eternity, he finished securing and relaying the last of the files and submitted the assignment, feeling a wave of relief wash dutifully over his shoulders. He sat back in his chair, eyes fixated on the ceiling, wondering what it was he’d done to secure such a cruel fate. His bones ached each time he moved, and he knew that he’d need to set time aside to sleep at some point, else he might crash in the middle of an assignment. _That_ certainly wouldn’t go over well, and he didn’t feel particularly fond of the idea of being tazed awake, which he was sure Vanderwood might attempt should he have trouble rousing him the normal way. 

He pulled his glasses off to clean them and squinted at the time. _4:37 am._ Groaning, Seven set his glasses aside and crumpled forward, his forehead coming to a halt on the cool surface of his desk. His eyes fell closed, and for a moment, he allowed himself to sit still and breathe. 

His head still felt like it was going to explode as he mulled over the events he’d witnessed. With each development, it was like he added a new thread to the mental board he’d begun weaving, but none of the threads seemed to connect. Rather, they pooled together in the center over top of a picture of Min, staring at him with that same pointed gaze he’d caught sight of all day. She watched him in the same manner that he watched her, and that alone was enough to make knots form in his stomach. She’d written off his inquiry by saying she was observant, but it was more than that - it wasn’t _natural_ , and there was no way her acute sense of awareness was something she’d developed on her own. 

As he pondered over the interaction, his phone made a sound. Seven groaned again and grabbed the device, squinting at the blinding light. 

_4:42 am_

_Min has entered the chatroom._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate start to MC's introduction into the chatroom~! Things are about to get a lot spicier, so hold on to your hats :-)


	6. Chatroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mi Sun's reflections lead to a small crack in her hardened exterior. As if her inner turmoil isn't enough to deal with, a new app has appeared on her phone - one she didn't download.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter this time around! I really wanted to take some time to develop Mi Sun and expand on her past, so this chapter shows a lot of her inner thoughts and feelings, as well as delivers some insight into her relationship with her father and her own agency. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also worthy of note: 
> 
> TW for topics concerning child abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, and mild sexual implications regarding a minor

There was something eerily comforting about the expanse of cityscape before her; from up here, the lights far below all blended together seamlessly into an endless sea of glittering fractures, and for a moment, the city felt alive to her. There were thousands more than she could ever hope to count, but for some reason, being faced with a task that she was powerless to accomplish made her content. She could bask in the impossibility of it without someone beckoning her to move faster, smarter, more efficiently. She could accept her failure without consequence.

The wind nipped bitterly at her nose and cheeks as she gazed out, and though she was sure that her skin flamed brilliantly in response, she couldn't bring herself to move. Her fingers had lost feeling moments ago, and her shivering had been replaced with the same eerie quiet that had overcome her mind.

Each light represented a person, in some way. Each pair of headlights on the bypass below represented some poor soul returning home from a late-night, and each twinkle from the industrial park on the horizon was another tired face slaving over their final paperwork. She had no doubt that these individuals wished desperately to have the same leisure that she appeared to; surely, they'd like to hang up for the night and return home to the comfort of their loved ones. She could only imagine their exasperated sighs.

She'd have switched places with them if she could. She'd have liked to feel normal, even if only for the night.

There was no way of knowing for sure, but based on her proximity to the city, Mi Sun had determined that a certain bundle of lights was SKY University, where she'd been only hours ago. It was a rough estimate - and likely false - but she liked to think that Yoosung and Seven were still down there, chatting eagerly over coffee and finishing up their fun night together. Perhaps one of those twinkling lights was the rickety light overhanging the balcony of the café, threatening to fall on any and all unsuspecting customers as they pried open the heavy wooden door. Maybe that dull, yellow light was Yoosung's window, and they'd gone back to his dorm to talk about LOLOL or catch up with one another. Or, just maybe, one of those pairs of headlights belonged to Seven, heading home from a refreshing day with an old friend.

She swallowed a lump in her throat that she hadn't known had been there. Perhaps none of these circumstances were true, and she was assigning useless value to a streetlight on a street she'd never visited. Maybe she was better off not knowing.

The overlook was one of the few places in the city she could go to fully escape. Her adventures were always brief enough not to raise any alarms, but there was an odd solace in the prospect of standing far above the city, so cold she could no longer feel it, without a soul knowing where she'd gone. She'd lived her entire life as a ghost without will or possession; as an agent, she held no long-term possessions, no story, no relationships. Any investments were temporary, and any interactions were fleeting and far in-between. Her cover life was nothing but a falsehood - not even her name belonged to her. She was nothing more than a mold for her ruthless father, to bend or distort in whichever way served him best.

He'd never wanted her to begin with. Her father had been hopelessly in love with her mother, and though it seemed unfathomable to her, she'd heard that he was not always a cruel man. He'd always been ambitious and ruthless in his own way, but in the years he'd spent with her mother before she'd come into the world, he'd been focused on his work as a means to support someone else - that alone was revolutionary.

He'd gone to great lengths to keep her mother safe. Despite her cunning intelligence and artistic pursuits, her mother hadn't been given a choice in her life path after marrying her father, as being the spouse of an intelligence agency executive had put an enormous, ever-growing target on her back. She'd been promptly ushered into the role of an award-winning housewife, and though she seemed to enjoy the domestic bliss that he provided for her, Mi Sun had witnessed her mother's discontent with spending life in glorified prison. She'd been given an estate with beautiful gardens, endless gourmet courses, and any material object that she could ever want, but Mi Sun's mother had always yearned for the one thing she couldn't grasp in her father's shadow: freedom.

When Mi Sun had been born, her father had been on a long mission. According to whispers she'd heard from employees at the estate as a child, her father had orchestrated on numerous occasions for her mother to miscarry - by any means possible - but all had failed, and only a month before he'd returned, she'd given birth in the on-site medical facility. Mi Sun had been born healthy, and that alone was enough to forsake her existence.

Had her mother not been fiercely protective of her, Mi Sun was sure she'd have died by her father's hand early in her life. There had been a few instances where she'd come close to fatal accidents, but they'd always been circumstantial - no one dared question the motive. Still, her mother was persistent in giving Mi Sun as normal of a life as she could; she spent countless hours educating her on history and art; she planted pollinator gardens for the butterflies with her, and painted portraits of the scenery present on the estate. Despite their array of gourmet chefs, her mother taught her to cook, and for a time, Mi Sun was content.

Gradually, her father's treatment of her mother had become more withdrawn and cold. In his eyes, he'd chosen to take on the task of keeping her mother safeguarded from the mountain of enemies who'd no doubt take advantage of her to get to him, but their child was a liability he hadn't asked for. Furthermore, Mi Sun had been born a female, and her father's traditional beliefs were deeply engrained in him. It infuriated him that her mother cared for her, and as the rift between them grew, he blamed Mi Sun for coming into the world.

Her mother had gotten sick when she was young, and over time, her condition had only grown grimmer. Despite her father's best efforts, no medical professional known to man seemed to be able to do anything for her, and it killed the man to watch the illness eat away at the woman he loved. He'd spent so long protecting her in every way he'd known how, but in the end, it hadn't been any outside forces that had taken her from him. It had been something natural, unstoppable, and beyond his control. The illness held no titles, no power, no wealth; it did not acknowledge his status in the world, nor did it care for the things that he could offer. For her father, the illness had felt like an unfathomable curse placed on him by a higher power.

He'd blamed her for that, too. As her mother withered to nothing but skin and bones, Mi Sun began to feel the fingers of the coming darkness begin to wrap around her throat. She'd sucked the life from her mother, he'd said. She'd broken her heart and spirit, he'd said. Mi Sun was a curse, and he'd known it from the day that she was born; if she'd never come into the world, her mother's heart never would have faltered, and she'd have been stronger. There were a million reasons, and her father only seemed to fathom new ones with each breath that she drew in her mother's absence.

She'd been seven years old when her mother had finally succumbed to the illness, and for the first time in her life, Mi Sun had felt as if time truly stood still. Her father had been abroad on a mission then, too - he'd done his best to avoid the sight of his withering wife. She could remember the day vividly if she tried, and yet, it all seemed to exist inside of a hazy bubble inside of her brain.

It had rained all summer that year. Mi Sun had always loved thunderstorms, and so she'd never understood her mother's complaining about the "mood of it all" in the constant downpour, but that summer had been especially unforgiving. They'd struggled to keep their garden from drowning, and on more than one occasion, Mi Sun had been reprimanded for leaving the windows open when the rain began to pour inside. She enjoyed the sound of it, and it was not uncommon for her to go against her mother's wishes and venture into the weather outside. She'd ruined many dresses that way, but her mother never minded. She'd been a kind woman, and she understood the wild fascination that her daughter possessed with the grim skies above.

That morning, the sun hung brilliantly in the sky. For the first time in weeks, birds were singing when Mi Sun opened her eyes, and her curtains stirred against the doors of her window in the gentle breeze - she'd left them open to listen to the thunder. When she'd stirred from her bed and trotted, groggily towards the balcony, she'd taken notice of the golden haze that had swallowed the estate, and her first thought had been how much her mother would enjoy seeing the sun.

Of course, it hadn't happened that way. Hours later into the day, when the sun had shifted positions and cast long shadows across the estate, Mi Sun sat on a bench in the garden behind the estate with her knees drawn to her chest. She'd stayed that way for hours, staring at the calloused tips of her fingers as if trying, selfishly, to doubt that it had been real. For some reason, despite the way her heart had felt as though it were tearing itself into a million pieces inside of her chest, she couldn't bring herself to accept what had happened while sequestered inside of the peaceful ambiance of her mother's garden. With the sun - her mother's sun, she'd decided - on her skin and the comforting sounds of nature around her, she hadn't acknowledged the reality that existed outside of that small space. As long as she lay by her lonesome in the garden, she could pretend that her mother was watching from the house with a kind smile on her face.

She hadn't cried, initially. For days afterward, Mi Sun had gone through the same motions as when her mother was alive, fully unable to acknowledge that her mother wouldn't come strolling around the corner to reprimand her for whatever antics she'd gotten into. When she cooked, she made enough for two, and she set the table for a person that would never join her. When she painted, she set up two canvases. When she gardened, she got out two sets of tools. She'd thrown herself into a forced, habitual system that allowed her to continue playing the part that her mother had wished for her; in Mi Sun's eyes, changing that routine meant acknowledging the reason, and that was something that she, left to her grief at seven years old, hadn't been able to handle.

To this day, Mi Sun never knew how her father grieved for her mother. When he'd come home weeks after her death, he'd ordered every piece of furniture in the estate sold, auctioned, or donated, and he'd entirely replaced the interiors with things that seemed to her cold, calculated, and minimal. All of the paintings she'd made with her mother were trashed, and any photos hanging in the halls of their home were boxed and placed in the attic, forbidden from being displayed. Even Mi Sun's bedroom, which her father rarely laid eyes on, had been refurnished and replaced. In mere days, he'd erased any evidence that her mother had existed there at all.

She'd watched it happen. Her father had been nothing more than a shadow in her life until that point, but even as a child, Mi Sun had understood the reproach that the man felt for her. No matter how cruel he became, he was not to be challenged; her mother had expressed similar sentiments to her, pleading with the rambunctious child not to upset him. They understood one another no better than strangers, but it was not her place to challenge that. For his work in the agency, her father was focused, driven, and austere. At home, he was a callous man who drowned his sorrows in the finest whiskey he could obtain and cursed his only child for ruining his life. Mi Sun had adapted to his attitude quickly - though it was hardly a willing change - and understood very early on in the months following her mother's death that the comfort she'd found at the estate had died with her.

He wasted no time in finding new use for her. By that point in her life, her father's colleagues in the agency were well aware of her existence, so it wasn't as simple as getting rid of her as he'd always wanted to. Still, the prospect of continuing her education at the estate and allowing her to sit at home, removed from the world, seemed to infuriate him. Instead, her father decided that the only use that could be made of his only child was to weaponize her, and that was precisely what he'd done.

It had started with private lessons from various agents below him, covering a variety of topics from hacking, conduct, and computer science to international relations and broader political ideas. For every waking hour of the day, Mi Sun took notes until her hands shook and she lost all retention in her grip; she stared at screens until she couldn't keep her eyes open; she answered questions from her tutors until her tongue felt foreign inside of her mouth. Her lessons continued for three years without any breaks or holidays, and when she turned ten, her training evolved.

Her father insisted that she would not be weak. Originally, he contracted specialists from the agency to begin her physical training, and Mi Sun endured countless hours of cardio, hand-to-hand combat, and strength work. She was only ten, so she often made errors or - on many occasions - collapsed, unable to continue for the day. She sustained bruises across the vast expanse of skin that covered her body, and in some instances, she had to continue her training with a sprained wrist or fractured ribs. Her instructors had been informed not to go easy on her, and they knew better than to disobey her father.

Her training evolved again. She'd spend her mornings going over hacking technique and running simulations; she'd fill her afternoons with exhausting runs and obstacle courses; before dinner, she'd spar with her instructor and do her best to hold her own against the grown man; at night, as she lay battered, bruised, and exhausted in her bed, a new form of training occurred. Halfway through her tenth year of life, her father began to schedule tactical simulations without informing her of them.

They often came in groups. Without word, a small team of agents from her father's division would break into the estate, infiltrate the grounds of the house, and do their best to hunt, combat, and capture Mi Sun. The first night that it happened, Mi Sun hadn't known that such a test was coming. She'd woken in the early hours of the morning to a knife pressed against her throat and a pair of steel eyes staring down at her, concealed behind an operative mask. There'd been four men, much larger than her, standing around her bed with guns pointed at her, lasers marking the center of her chest. Without giving her a moment to feel anything but primal, unbridled fear, they'd seized her, secured her wrists and ankles, and knocked her unconscious.

She'd awoken what she assumed was a couple of hours later, when fingers of sunlight were beginning to grace the horizon, in the woods beyond the gates of the estate. She'd been stripped to her tank top and underwear despite the bone-chilling bite in the air, and her wrists and ankles were still bound uncomfortably tight. She'd been dropped face-down in the leaves, tucked beneath a rotting log and a small slope. In retrospect, it had likely been the shivering that had finally pulled her from her forced slumber, as her body threatened to slip over the threshold from discomfort to danger. Her fingers were numb as she tried to loosen the bindings, and were it not for her violent struggling in a desperate attempt to get free, she might have frozen to death.

It had taken her hours to free herself, and even with her hands and legs free from the constricted movement, Mi Sun hadn't known her location. She'd been sobbing and pleading for help by then, somehow forgetting any ounce of her agent training and reverting to the scared, lost ten-year-old she'd been at heart. She'd wandered through the woods for what felt like an eternity before she saw something familiar, and it was well into the night before she managed to make it back to the estate. When she'd arrived at the front gate, her hair was knotted on top of her head, her cheeks were tracked with dirt and lines from her tears, and her bare feet were bloody. Without a word, her father's hired help had taken her inside, patched her up, and put her to bed. No amount of scrubbing in the bath that they'd drawn could rid her of the feeling of the bindings on her wrists.

They'd come again three days later. Then again, a week later. Without fail, Mi Sun experienced this horrifying phenomenon at irregular intervals for the latter half of the year. Sometimes, she woke in the woods, and sometimes, they'd take her to a remote, abandoned barn and subject her to common torture tactics in order to " _prepare her"_. It took her months to fully understand how to get out of the bindings quickly, and it wasn't until after her eleventh birthday the following year that the thought to _prevent_ the relocation ever crossed her mind. It was a failed operation numerous times, but gradually, Mi Sun learned. _She had to._ Halfway through her eleventh year, she'd become quite adept at hiding herself in various places around the estate, and the team that targeted her lost her on numerous occasions. She'd gotten accustomed to waking at the slightest sound, and by then, she was skilled enough at hacking to set up systems to protect herself. On the off chance that the operatives located her, her physical training had begun to have its effects on her ability to fend them off long enough to escape; of course, an eleven-year-old couldn't take on a group of fully-trained men, but she knew enough to put up a fight.

That form of training continued for years, and though Mi Sun became an expert in evasion, security, and her resilient spirit, it was not without a toll on her spirit. For years on end, Mi Sun never managed a full, careless night of sleep; she was constantly on edge, paranoid, and working towards the next step in her training. She became abhorrently claustrophobic and distrustful of those around her, and for a time, she refused to enter or sleep in her own bedroom. Rather than comfort clothing, she slept in her agent uniform, strapped with concealed weapons and tools for her own defense. In the eyes of many of the employees of the estate who'd watched her grow up, Mi Sun had evolved from the inquisitive, rambunctious little girl into a tenacious, weaponized corpse. She no longer spoke of things like gardens and paintings. She no longer left the windows open to hear the thunder.

She became a prodigy in the organization, so his relentless - and questionable - training was not without fail. Her hacking skills far surpassed fully-certified agents in his division, and her reasoning skills rivaled the adults that had instructed her in her youth. By the time she was fourteen, Mi Sun's father's superiors scouted her for an introductory position at the agency working behind the scenes. It was around that time that she'd met Eun, who was three years her senior. From the beginning, Mi Sun's general talent stood out like a sore thumb, but she lacked the experience that she needed to advance any further. So, satisfied with his harvest, her father had permitted the agency to take over her training.

The years following were a blur to her. Mi Sun wasn't sure if she'd repressed them or simply forgotten, but she couldn't recall many details from the beginning of her career as an agent. Her mission schedule was relentless and without structure; she'd spend weeks abroad on an intelligence mission only to return home and spend days hacking an intelligence unit in a foreign country, rinse, and repeat. Despite her specialization in hacking, her father's superiors felt it imperative to gather her experience all across the board, should they decide to promote her elsewhere. Her father permitted, as he hadn't been promoted over the entire division quite yet, but he hadn't been happy about his home-grown weapon slipping through his fingers.

The years hadn't been bad ones, necessarily. They were empty and without much to note, as the life of an agent was hardly glamorous, but she'd found small moments of solace in being away from her father. The life-threatening situations that she found herself in overseas seemed tame to her after living in fear for years of her childhood, and she was applauded for her ability to stay calm despite the immense pressure placed on her shoulders. She could recall a few missions from that time where she'd knocked on death's door. There had been the time when she was fifteen, where her camp had been ambushed in an unmarked location in Northeastern Russia. They'd been investigating an underground facility that her father's division had received intel on via satellite, and they'd been forced to don the heaviest parka she'd ever seen, as well as enemy uniforms, and infiltrate the facility. One of the operatives on her team had been careless, and after the unit patrolling the facility had discovered the fallen comrades that they'd stolen the uniforms off of, Mi Sun and her team had been forced to fight their way out. They'd narrowly escaped with their lives, but not without injury; for hours, Mi Sun had treated a severe knife wound on her upper arm while pinned down in a shed with her equally-incapacitated team, doing their best not to bleed out or succumb to the sub-zero temperatures. They'd lost connection with their base, and Mi Sun had genuinely been convinced she was at death's door when the helicopter had finally arrived, hours later. That was the first time she'd ever been forced to give herself stitches.

There'd also been the time, when she was sixteen, that a solo mission in home territory had gone _completely_ wrong. Despite her credentials as an agent, the fact that Mi Sun was a woman had never been lost on her father, nor his superiors. This mission, like many others she'd endured, had required her to play a part as a tempting, aloof young woman in order to grow close to the target. The fact that she'd been a minor at the time hadn't mattered, as the outlines of her duties inside of her organization were already well beyond the restrictions of the law. It had been her first time playing this role, however, and Mi Sun had blown the operation by reacting negatively to the target's advances on her. In the context of these missions, Mi Sun had never been instructed to take things _too_ far; there were no sexual implications, and beyond her own discomfort at being fawned over, she usually suffered no abuse. She was bait on a string to be drooled over, and when her target bit the line, she hooked them. At least, that was how it had been explained to her. Still, even knowing that she didn't have to give in, Mi Sun had been unable to stomach batting her eyelashes at such a horrid man. When she'd been seized by the target's men and held hostage, her father had allowed it to happen; her supervisors had been on standby to intervene, but were forbidden from doing so - he claimed that she needed to understand the weight of a failed mission.

She'd spent a day and a half secured to the linoleum floor of a basement room in an unmarked warehouse. Her clothes had been removed, and she was not permitted food or water. Like clockwork, the target's men would visit the room every hour on the hour, doing their best to pry information from her. She was humiliated, tortured, and verbally berated, but she knew that worse would await her still if she opened her mouth. So Mi Sun had persisted in her silence, and after thirty-seven hours, her father permitted the agents on standby to swarm the compound and rescue her.

When her supervisors had entered the room, they found her shackled in the corner; she was naked, bloodied, and unconscious. Her right eye had been swollen shut and her cheek split, and her bloodied lips were chapped with thirst. Her abdomen, arms, calves, and shoulder had been cut in various places for various reasons, and she was dangerously close to losing a fatal amount of blood. In addition to her dehydration, again, she'd been very close to crossing the threshold of no return.

Then, by some miracle, her father had been transferred out of her division. For the next couple of years, Mi Sun continued to impress her supervisors and soared beyond their expectations, earning her more leeway with choosing her missions and an endless stream of promotions. She stopped being issued grunt work and started receiving strictly hacking missions, which she could complete from the comfort of her apartment. She'd purchased her own place not long after joining the agency, as she felt much safer off of the estate, and her father could no longer issue raids on her when she lived in the city.

She also met Seok then, who acknowledged her talents and seemed to feel remorse for the whispers he heard of her upbringing. He, too, fielded cruel missions and sent them elsewhere, and for the first time in her life, Mi Sun almost felt taken care of.

Everything had fallen back into place after that, only the picture that Mi Sun had been painting had changed drastically. Her father returned, Seok was transferred, and her nightmare picked back up where it had left off. She wasn't subjected to midnight raids anymore, but her father had no inhibitions about sending her on missions that would likely get her killed. Over time, however, his promotion became a more daunting task and his focus on her dwindled.

She almost missed the cruelty of it all. At least abroad, her reports to him were distant and delated. At least abroad, there was the chance that she could disappear out in the world and never come back. At least abroad, it might all come to an end.

Here, from the comfort of her apartment, her father had seized his control over her again. He checked her reports thoroughly himself and was constantly calling to check up on her or ask for progress. Any moment of hesitation or lack of focus hit his radar immediately, and he didn't waste any time doing what he could to reprimand her and remind her of her role as his weaponized puppet. Like any obedient dog, Mi Sun obeyed his every whim and command; she was a fully-fledged agent with the skills to fight back, yet found herself unable to go against the man she hated with every fiber of her being. Through the years of abuse, mistrust, and dehumanization, Mi Sun had become overbearingly compliant, as if he truly pulled strings inside of her to make her do his bidding.

Mi Sun was always applauded for being a calm, collected agent, but Mi Sun's father inspired a primal fear in her that she had never felt before.

The wind picked up then, stirring her from her thoughts. A reflective sigh fell from her blue-tinted lips, and for a moment, Mi Sun wondered what might have happened if she didn't return to the car. No one knew her whereabouts, and up here at the overlook above the city, Mi Sun could disappear without a trace. No one would know where she'd gone, nor would they know where to begin looking. She could watch the city lights until her limbs were frozen solid, and by the time some unlucky civilian found her, she'd be lost to the world. Her breaths would die in her throat, and over time, she'd fall asleep to the sight before her. Almost bitterly, she wondered if that's what it would take for her to finally sleep in peace.

It wasn't that she was suicidal. Had she been, Mi Sun could have acted on such desires a long time ago. Rather, it was that she understood how little impact she had on the world in this life that she lived. She was a ghost of a person, and there wasn't a soul alive in the world who truly knew her. Even Yoosung, who she'd grown close to recently, knew nothing of who she was or where she'd come from. If she disappeared tomorrow, she imagined he'd mourn her disappearance, but it would be otherwise unimpactful.

That was the life of an agent, but even more, that was _her_ life. She lived as if she were preparing to die, and the thought was not something that had any effect on her. Mi Sun engaged every mission and assignment knowing full well that she could not return, and she'd resigned herself to that fact. Even more so, Mi Sun was not just an agent - her father had made sure of that. Her life was a special kind of hell without rhyme, reason, or promises for the future. For most agents, if nothing else, they were living in order to survive.

For Mi Sun, she wasn't sure of the reason. Perhaps she lived simply because that was what she'd always done. Her life would not be a story. Her life would not have a beginning, middle, and an end; she'd had a beginning, but time had frozen when her mother had died, and now she was stuck in some purgatory-like intermission that she couldn't get out of. The thought to forcibly end the intermission had occurred to her numerous times, but Mi Sun had never had any intention of going through with it…and somehow, that was _infuriating_. She had no reason to live, but some small part of her insisted on doing it anyways - she supposed that she couldn't die until she understood that small, simple fact.

The car was cold when she returned to it. The engine roared to life, and after a few moments of faithful vibrations, warm air began to filter through the vents. Mi Sun waited for feeling to return to her fingers before she gripped the steering wheel, carefully pulling her car back onto the road and beginning her descent back to cruel reality. She had a heap of work waiting for her at her apartment, and as her father had informed her on the phone hours before, a mission in a few days that she'd need to prepare for.

Mi Sun wasn't religious. She'd always insisted that she couldn't find faith in a God that would allow such cruel things to happen in the world. But now, as she began her descent from the winding, mountain road, she willed any higher power that might be listening to put an obstacle in her path or veer her car off the road. She couldn't do it herself, but if there truly were no purpose for her life, she willed that they would stop her, here and now.

A small, sad smile tugged at her lips as the bypass came into view ahead of her. She wasn't religious, but perhaps this was another cruel twist of fate. No obstacles had appeared in her path, and despite her trembling fingers, her car continued straight on its path.

Perhaps there was something left for her to do.

* * *

It was well into the early hours of the morning before Mi Sun took a break from her work. Her spine screamed at her in protest when she finally sat back from her computer, and for a moment, she thought it might snap. She let out a groan as her joints popped and settled, happy to feel the relief that immediately followed. She really should have made more of an effort to maintain good posture, but the curve of her spine was the _last_ thing that she felt like thinking about - her brain was already at capacity.

For the majority of the night, she'd been retrieving files on all of the missing person cases she'd compiled by the individual, particularly those that pertained to mental health or financial trouble. She'd known before that most of the victims were similar in circumstance prior to their disappearance, but with records to back her claims, she felt a lot more sure of that assumption. Every victim inside of her assignment file had expressed a decline in their mental health prior to their disappearance, though the reasons varied quite a bit.

She'd discovered another connection, as well. It wasn't consistent with _every_ victim, but it applied to all of the individuals in her file considered "high-profile". Businessmen, politicians, philanthropists, and celebrities alike had all come into contact with the same organization prior to their disappearance: the RFA. Upon more digging, she'd discovered that it was a charity foundation founded by the same girl she'd found on the bank statements only days before: Rika.

It was a connection that she couldn't ignore, but she wasn't sure quite what it meant yet.

First, there was no guarantee that the RFA was involved in the disappearances as an organization. It was entirely possible that whoever _was_ responsible had scouted all of these victims at the RFA party or through RFA connections, but that didn't implicate everyone. Second, Mi Sun had every reason to believe that Rika was involved in the disappearances due to the odd timing of the donations made in her name on the victim's bank statements - which had been _conveniently_ erased - and having a public connection between the same victims and an organization founded in _her_ name only fueled Mi Sun's flame of suspicion.

The only issue was that the girl was dead. Reportedly.

She ran her fingers through her hair and swiveled around in her chair, shutting her eyes for a moment. It was nearly four-thirty, and she'd been working so diligently that her fingers were beginning to cramp shut, refusing to relax. She supposed now was as good a stopping point as she could hope for, as her productivity levels were beginning to free-fall as exhaustion overcame her.

With a moment of quiet, Mi Sun reflected on the events of the day. Despite the hectic end, she'd had a decent day, and it felt odd for her to admit that to herself. She'd made good progress on her project with Yoosung and gotten to spend time with him, which always seemed to bring her comfort. He was far more excitable and positive than Mi Sun could ever hope to be, but she found their personalities complimentary; he drew out the side of her that she didn't quite understand. Selfishly, she wondered if the side of her that Yoosung saw - the side that pretended to be Min - was who she'd be if she'd never become an agent. Min was a girl who smiled freely and made jokes of her own; Min was a girl who enjoyed the sunshine and did well in her studies; Min was a girl who was quiet but motivated, and never struggled to make acquaintances. Mi Sun wondered what Min would think of who she actually was.

_Seven._ The name echoed in her name as memories of the day came flooding back, and pensively, Mi Sun began to chew at her lip. He was cheery and strange, but there was a warm, aloof tone to his demeanor that made her enjoy his company. He was different than Yoosung - more mature, in some way - and far more reserved. He didn't seem fond of crowds, and though he seemed quite the comedian, he was quick to embarrass when his tactics were turned on him.

He was also inexplicably off-putting. Mi Sun was a well-trained intelligence agent, so it hadn't taken her long to notice how dutifully he watched her every move. Even when he thought she hadn't noticed, Mi Sun had been observing his mannerisms and behaviors with careful, calculated acknowledgment. He watched her in a curious, almost predatory way, like a cat that had become infatuated with the actions of the mouse. His eyes never matched his expressions, and each time he turned those golden irises on her, she could feel herself being picked apart as if he were some kind of machine.

Not to mention, Yoosung had let it slip that Seven was a hacker. He'd said it nonchalantly, but Mi Sun wasn't surprised; if they were friends, it was a fact Yoosung had become comfortable with, and his knowledge of the world was far too innocent for him to understand how heavily those connotations weighed on his friend. Seven managing to casually hack the LOLOL servers was no small feat, however much Yoosung seemed to think so. He wasn't just a hacker - he was a _skilled_ one.

Despite his calculated gaze and infamous, ambiguous occupation, Mi Sun didn't feel as though his presence was malicious. He seemed more curious by her than anything else, and she had some inclination as to why; no doubt, Yoosung had forwarded the details of their odd interactions to his friend, and Seven seemed to have taken an interest in the situation. She didn't know entirely what that meant, but she would certainly be keeping an eye on it.

She groaned. While she was thinking about Yoosung, it occurred to her that her phone had been off since she'd left campus. In an attempt to preserve her peace, Mi Sun had cut the communications on all of her devices for her small retreat, and she'd forgotten to turn the school phone back on when returning to her apartment.

She grabbed her backpack from the floor beside her desk and pulled the phone from the front pocket, holding her finger over the button. As the screen roared to life, she sat back in her chair, preparing herself for the onslaught of messages that she assumed Yoosung had sent her. If she'd learned anything last time, it was that Yoosung absolutely would _not_ take her word for it and would likely continue to worry until he laid eyes on her next. It was endearing, and she knew he meant well, but it was wasted effort on his part. She'd endured far worse in her lifetime, and likely would again - no amount of worrying would change that.

Sure enough, as her home screen greeted her, so did a random downpour of notifications. Yoosung had called her twice and texted her nine times. Surprised, Mi Sun opened the notifications and glanced over them; last time, he'd called her five times and texted her seventeen, so this was an improvement.

Mi Sun quickly shot him an apology and informed him she'd rushed home to finish work for her other lectures, assuring him that she'd be seeing him in class ad everything was fine. She knew he was growing tired of hearing that phrase, but at least this time, she truly meant it. Her excuse for rushing home hadn't been a lie - she _did_ have a lot of work to do, it just wasn't homework. At least, not entirely.

Figuring he was probably asleep, Mi Sun moved to clear her other notifications but found her finger frozen over the screen.

She squinted. _What the hell is that?_ Blinking a few times, Mi Sun pulled the phone closer to her face and tried to discern the foreign notification at the top of the list. It was for an app she didn't recognize, and the usernames listed in the notification were foreign to her. It appeared in a string of texts, like a chatroom, which made the brunette frown. She hadn't downloaded any sort of chatroom app - that much she knew for sure.

For ten minutes, Mi Sun stared at the app icon as if willing it to go away. There was something entirely unsettling about the title, "RFA Messenger", considering that was the _very_ organization she'd just spent hours researching it. For a moment, her mind flashed back to the fleeting prayer she'd sent into the universe on her way down the mountain. She couldn't help the bitter laugh that fell from her throat.

"Is this some kind of joke?" She wondered aloud, making a show of looking upwards. "This is it, right? I'm gonna open this app and my phone is going to burst into flames. Or, it's going to immediately send my location to a hitman with a file on me, and I'm going to die." She chuckled again, almost delirious at this level of exhaustion. "What the fuck?"

She normally didn't curse this much, but this had taken her completely by surprise. Her phone had been off for the entirety of her work, and she hadn't connected to any strange networks that she could recall. Sure, the security on her school phone was lackluster at best, but surely she'd have noticed an _entire app_ being downloaded…right?

After more deliberation, Mi Sun tentatively pressed her finger onto the app and watched as the screen morphed, flashing a black screen with fancy white lettering in a border across the top. As she remarked inwardly about how pretentious the font choice was, the screen shifted again; this time, it prompted her to input a username.

Mi Sun frowned. She couldn't very well put her name, as that would _guarantee_ her death should the agency find out about this, but she supposed there was no harm in throwing Min under the bus. With a sigh, she input the nickname that Yoosung had given her and watched as the screen processed her submission. After a moment, her phone let out a few sounds and the black faded into a softer background.

_Min has entered the chatroom._

She wasn't entirely sure how this chatroom worked, but from what she could see, only one other user was online.

**707:**

…… Hello?

Once again, Mi Sun found herself squinting at her screen with a frown on her face. _707?_ She thought, recalling where she'd heard that name before. An image of a redhead with piercing golden eyes flashed across her eyelids.

**Min:**

Hello? What is this?

**707:**

Who are you?

**Min:**

I could ask you the same question

**707:**

Well, considering this is a confidential app and I don't recall giving any new people permissions,

I think it's okay for me to be suspicious >.<

How did you get in here?

She snorted, unsurprised by the faint hostility. She couldn't necessarily argue with that logic, so she supposed she'd go along with it.

**Min:**

To be honest, I don't know. I just found this app on my phone

**707:**

You just … found it ?

??????

That's….

That shouldn't be possible !!!!

**Min:**

Yeah, tell me about it. I know for a fact that I didn't download this

**707:**

!!!!

Give me a second

Gonna figure this out lol

707 is on the case!

Her breath caught in her throat. She'd _definitely_ heard that before.

**Min:**

Um

Like, Agent 707?

…..Defender of Justice?

**707:**

……………

⋆ටᆼට⋆

How did you know that?!?!

….

Wait a second

.

So, I hacked the network that you're attached to right now to see who it's registered to

…..Min, as in Yoosung's friend?

Her fingers paused over the keyboard. He'd _hacked her network?_ That quickly? She wasn't sure whether to be impressed or infuriated. Not only was she certain this was the Seven she'd met today, she'd verified her suspicions about him being a talented hacker, more-so than Yoosung was aware.

Luckily for her - and perhaps unluckily for him - Mi Sun had more than one network present at her home. It was a precaution she'd gotten into the habit of taking years ago, as she did both assignment work and schoolwork from the comfort of her apartment. One of her networks was a standard, run-of-the-mill network with average security registered to Min that she only connected her school phone and computer to. The other was a top-notch, highly-secured network registered under another alias.

If he'd managed to get ahold of that one, things would have been a lot more serious.

**Min:**

You hacked my network?

Um…

Yeah, it's me

What is going on?

**707:**

That's what I'd like to know

well, hi Min !!!!!!!!!!

if my app had to be breached, I'm glad it's at least someone I know

still, this app is confidential, so this is a problem lol

I'm going to have to call V.

**Min:**

V?

**707:**

The leader of our organization

if there's been a breach, he needs to know

then we can decide what to do about it

**Min:**

I'm still not even sure how I got here

**707:**

Has anything weird happened since we saw you?

**Min:**

Not really

To be completely honest, my phone wasn't even on

I just turned it on and saw the app

**707:**

…..

That explains why you didn't answer Yoosung lol

Well, don't worry Min!

Agent 707 is on the case!

I'll look into it

**Min:**

Let me know if you find anything

**707:**

You got it!

~(=^‥^)ノ☆

anyways Min

It's almost five !!!!!

Why are you awake?!?!

**Min:**

Oh

…

I had a lot of work to do

Mi Sun paused for a second, sitting back in her chair. Her eyelids were beginning to feel really heavy, and as she watched Seven's sporadic texts spread across her screen, she found herself struggling to keep up with his enthusiasm. He had just as much energy now as he'd had hours ago - she couldn't fathom how.

**707:**

You should still get lots of sleep!!!

**Min:**

Why are YOU awake, Seven?

**707:**

\ > . < /

The Defender of Justice never sleeps

I have a lot of work to do, too!

More, now that this has happened

**Min:**

I'm sorry :(

I didn't mean to give you work

**707:**

Don't worry! It's not your fault

…

I can run on fumes anyway lol

Plus

I have a secret weapon

Endless

Cases

Of

Ph.D.

Pepper

!!!!~

Mi Sun couldn't help but chuckle. "Sounds healthy, Seven," She murmured, shaking her head. As he continued ranting about his sleepless ventures and favorite snacks, Mi Sun shut down her computer and stood from her chair, making sure that everything had been properly closed. Once she was certain, she pushed her chair in and made for the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water to put on her nightstand.

Mi Sun chatted lightly with Seven as she got ready for bed, and by the time she fell into her sheets, it was just past 5:30 a.m. At this rate, she'd manage a few hours of sleep before she had to wake up for class, but she could live with that - a few hours was a good night in her line of work.

She squinted at her screen in the darkness, and as Seven's messages continued rolling, Mi Sun could feel her exhaustion fill her body and begin to weigh her into the mattress.

**707:**

Hey Min?

Seven interrupted his own rant with her name, and Min let out a sigh.

**Min:**

Mhm?

**707:**

I know that Yoosung asks this a lot

and you don't know me very well

but are you really okay?

**Min:**

…

Why do you ask?

**707:**

Gut feeling lol

You left really suddenly today

**Min:**

Ah, yeah

I'm sorry, Seven

I realized how much work I'd put off and panicked, is all

**707:**

I see

Well, I guess I'm happy that this mishap happened

I felt bad that I couldn't check on you

So now I can!

You're okay, then?

**Min:**

Yes, Seven

I'm okay  
I promise! ^^

**707:**

Alright

I believe you

You really should get some sleep

The sun's going to be up soon !!!

Don't you have class ?!?!

**Min:**

Okay, mom

Going right now

I've been fighting sleep, anyways

**707:**

Wow, fighting sleep to talk to me?

Scandalous, Min!  
Don't tell Yoosung!

She rolled her eyes at his joke, but the corners of her lips turned upwards. The fact that Seven had cared enough to check on her made a knot form in her stomach; it was the same as knowing Yoosung worried for her, and she hated that someone else was caught up in the wasted effort. Still, some part of her felt…happy?

**Min:**

You wish

Goodnight, Seven

Get some sleep too, okay?

**707:**

No promises!

But don't worry about me

God Seven can handle trivial things like exhaustion!

…

Sweet dreams, Min

_Min has left the chatroom._

With the same soft smile on her lips, Mi Sun set her phone aside and turned over, burying her face into her pillows. Doubts about the app swirled on her mind as she drifted off into sleep - it was a problem she could address later, and potentially with Seven's help. If nothing else, it was an in for her investigation.


	7. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After discovering the ambiguous appearance of 'Min' in the messenger, V decides to reach out. As much as Mi Sun would like to reject his proposal, she knows that the opportunity is too useful for her assignment. The RFA extends a warm welcome, and Mi Sun mulls over her choices. Later, after an outing with Seven and Yoosung, the redhead finally demands some answers. Min, as it turns out, is not what he was expecting.

_Someone was coming. Try as she might to be quiet, the documents fumbled in her nervous hands and Mi Sun struggled to swallow the knot that had slowly begun to block her airways. She grit her teeth and strengthened her resolve, folding the papers and falling to her knees, doing her best to maneuver around the desk chair. She slid underneath the desk and tucked herself into the hollow space in front of the chair, careful to push it back into position. Not seconds after she managed to fix it, there were thunderous footsteps from behind and the door flew open._

_They were speaking in a language she wasn't fluent in, but she'd studied enough to pick up small phrases. 'Intruder'; 'security'; 'eliminate target'. It wasn't much to go on, but it was enough to know that she couldn't get caught._

_With her left hand, Mi Sun placed her hand over her mouth and did her best to regulate her breathing, using her clenched jaw as a focal point for her tension. With her right hand, she dipped her hand into the slit in her evening gown and pulled the gun that was strapped to her leg out, flicking the safety off with her thumb. The goal was to hide and wait out their suspicious rounds, but should they decide to be more thorough, she was going to have to fight her way out._

_The footsteps approached the desk, and Mi Sun was thankful that she'd retrieved the documents instead of leaving them out for all to see. Even if that had been their initial position, the guard wouldn't recognize such a small detail, and they might have thought to lock up the documents had they realized how carelessly their superior had left them out._

_The footsteps faded, and Mi Sun allowed herself to release from tension from her shoulders. Once the door was closed, she'd hack the security system and secure her exit. There would be a helicopter waiting on the hill 3.4 kilometers northeast, and there was a small duffel bag with a change of clothes stashed in a dip in the wall on the northern side of the building. If she could get outside and rid herself of this restricting dress, she'd be fully equipped to make her silent escape and retrace-_

_"Come out." The voice was low and harsh, and the English words it spoke were riddled with the accent of the region. "Your partner has been detained. Come quietly, and I won't kill you just yet."_

_She felt her limbs seize with panic, but she didn't have time for that. As she readied her gun between her hands, Mi Sun racked her brain for the endless approaches to this situation, trying to determine which one would be the best course of action. If she stood and opened fire, she'd die. If she stayed hidden, she'd be found and killed. If she tried to make a run for it, they'd kill her. There was a window behind the desk, and maybe-_

_"I will give you three seconds."_

_There was shuffling behind her again, and with a startling numbness that always seemed to accompany the end, Mi Sun realized that there was nowhere else to go._

_She took a deep breath. If she couldn't run, and she couldn't hide, there was only one option: fight. If nothing else, fighting and dying by their hands meant that she wouldn't be taken alive, and as an agent, Mi Sun understood that her life meant nothing against the wealth of information stored inside of her brain. Her agency would sooner kill her themselves if she were caught by this organization, so to accept her capture in hope of a rescue was equally as poor an outcome…_

Something was buzzing. With a start, Mi Sun's eyes shot open and her body lurched forward, sending a wave of dull ache up her spine. The bruises across her abdomen still hadn't fully healed, but the pain was far more manageable than it had been only days ago. Her breaths were quick and shallowed, evident in her panic at the nightmare, and it took a moment for her to remind herself that she was in the comfort of her bed, with her security system and reinforced doors. Her hands were not bound, her pajamas were on, and sunlight had begun to creep through the expanse of windows in front of her.

The buzzing continued. Rubbing at her eyes, Mi Sun fumbled for her phone on the nightstand and squinted at the contact picture that spread across her screen. It was a man she didn't recognize, with an easy smile on his lips and undeniable, vibrant teal hair. The name read ' _V'_ \- who was this person?

She swiped her thumb across the screen and propped herself up on an elbow, pressing the phone to her ear. "Hello?" She asked, voice cracking with evidence of her slumber.

" _Hello, Min-Seo? Good morning - I apologize, did I wake you_?"

"Yes, but that's alright." She sighed, rubbing her free hand over her face and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. For a moment, she stilled and stretched her back upwards, satisfied with rolling the tension out of her body. "My alarm would have gone off soon, anyway. Who is this?"

" _I go by V. I was given your contact information by Luciel - er, 707, from the messenger_." Although his grammar was curt and proper, his tone was kind. Something about the way he spoke put Mi Sun at ease; of course, the agent within her would never fully rest at the prospect of conversing with someone she didn't know, but for some reason, he gave her the same impression of warmth as Yoosung, if not a few shades more subtle. " _I am in charge of the RFA, so I figured that I would reach out to you regarding your sudden appearance in the app_."

Her eyebrows drew together in the middle. _The leader of the RFA?_ She wondered incredulously, finally pulling herself to her feet and readjusting her comforter across her bed. She lived alone with no one to hold her accountable for her cleanliness, but Mi Sun was diligent in her discipline - it was ingrained in her. As she adjusted her pillows, she pondered the best way to approach this situation.

"I understand," She said finally, making her way towards the kitchen. If nothing else, V waking her before her alarm meant that she had a little extra time to laze around before she'd have to get ready for class. "Although admittedly, I'm just as confused as anyone else."

" _I can imagine you have many questions. Regrettably, I can't speak with you for long, but I wanted to introduce myself and do my best to explain what the RFA stands for as an organization. Luciel tells me that the app just appeared on your phone?"_

"Yeah, I only noticed it late last night." She poured the pot of water into the back of her coffeemaker and fixed the filter, filling it a third of the way with grounds. Once she'd pressed the button and heard the satisfying rumble of boiling water, Mi Sun leaned back against the counter and tilted her head thoughtfully, phone perched between her ear and shoulder.

" _It's also my understanding that you know Yoosung?_ "

"Oh, yeah. We've had a lot of classes together, so we're friends." _Friends._ The word felt foreign on her lips, and though she said it casually, it inspired the knots in her stomach to constrict uncomfortably. "I'm really not sure what happened. I can always give my phone to Seven and let him delete the program files-"

" _I'm afraid it's not that simple, Min-Seo._ " Raising a brow, Mi Sun noted how sincere he sounded. " _Unfortunately, if a hacker has managed to gain access to the messenger, we'll have to take precautionary measures. Our organization works with a lot of important figures, so we possess a wealth of confidential, personal information. It is not the first time someone has targeted this information, although they have never gotten this close…"_

V was silent for a moment. Mi Sun, still groggy from her sudden rise from slumber, did her best to listen for changes in his tone; to her surprise, his friendly, calm attitude didn't seem to waver. Either he was genuinely kind, or his manners were well-practiced.

" _I apologize that you've gotten wrapped up in this. For now, Luciel and I believe it would be best to allow you to use the messenger while we continue to monitor the hacker. Of course, once Luciel assures me that our information is secure, you are free to make your own decision."_

It was what she'd been hoping for. While Mi Sun _was_ innocent - after all, she was just as surprised about the app as anyone else - she couldn't deny that personally engaging with the RFA in a private messenger - riddled with information, no less - was a grand opportunity for her. She'd discovered the RFA's involvement with her assignment, and while she hadn't fully decided that they were _guilty_ , per se, being this close to them could at least present her with a chance to inquire about Rika.

She would have to be careful. Unknown to him, V's vague mentions of Seven's involvement clued her in on just how much of a threat he was to her. No less, he'd hacked her internet network in seconds; it wasn't a network she protected very enthusiastically, as a normal college student wouldn't have the means to do so, but pulling the network key from her device in such a small timeframe wasn't something she could chalk up to an amateur. Furthermore, if Seven was in charge of security for a high-level organization with a "wealth of confidential, personal information", she imagined he was elite. She would have to tread carefully - a single mistake could bring the world down around her.

"So you're keeping me in the messenger? Won't I just be in the way?" She did her best to swallow her exhaustion and grabbed the full pot of coffee, eyes dancing at the prospect of filling her system with caffeine. She'd gotten less than four hours of sleep, and while this was nothing new for the agent, she'd need something to sustain her.

" _Well, I have a task for you, if you are up for it. I understand that I am asking a lot of you._ " V paused, and she thought she could hear the man sigh. For just a moment, he'd almost sounded mournful. " _Our organization is a charity organization, founded by my late fiancé. In the past, we've held large charity parties with many high-society guests in order to raise money for various foundations, as well as orchestrate business deals and make contacts between trusted associates, for future fundraising purposes. We've held two parties thus far…My fiancé founded the organization four years ago and served as our party coordinator. She held two parties, but unfortunately, she passed away a year and a half ago."_

His voice faltered at the end, and despite herself, Mi Sun swallowed harshly. She set her mug down and leaned on the counter, face contorted. "I'm very sorry for your loss, V," She said quietly. _You can't sympathize with him. This project is essential for your assignment. These people may not be good people._ The well-trained voice inside her brain was screaming at her, but she couldn't help how uncomfortable she suddenly felt about the prospect of getting involved with selfish intentions.

" _Thank you, Min-Seo. She was our party coordinator, so regrettably, we have not held a party since her passing. The position has been…rather hard to fill, I suppose."_

She could see where this was going. "So you'd like me to fill in?"

" _You're very observant. Luciel informed me that Yoosung speaks nothing but high praise for you, and I can see that you are intelligent and diligent from your file. I understand that you likely have your own responsibilities - and you are a student, no less - but I assure you that your work as the party coordinator should not be too demanding if you are proactive. Of course, you would be compensated as well…"_

Mi Sun had made her way to the couch as V spoke, content to sit before the windows and watch the city wake up. As he continued, she brought the mug to her lips and took a long sip, wondering if there was some deity above throwing some hard-earned luck in her direction. First, she'd been granted access to the private messenger of a suspect in her assignment by _complete_ coincidence, and now, the leader of the organization wanted her to work closely with confidential information and high-society guests? Considering how many of the files in her assignment folder were high-society missing persons, she imagined that the web connecting them had much to do with the information V was trying so desperately to protect. She took another ginger sip, musing, _Perhaps there is a God._

"I see," She breathed, winded by the prospect of the task. It would be more work for her to balance into her already-rigid schedule, but as it related to her agency work, she couldn't very well say no. "But…why me?"

" _I'll admit that I am a little selfish in requesting this of you._ " V's voice grew softer as he explained, and Mi Sun found herself frowning at his words. " _Yoosung is very dear to me. Rika, my fiancé, was his cousin, and the two of them were very close. He has not handled her passing well. I thought that…perhaps if I could recruit someone he cares for to continue Rika's work, it might help him. I understand that it is selfish, but I want someone to aid him in associating the parties - and the RFA, by extension - with happiness again."_

She felt her blood run cold. _Rika._ All at once, images of the files she'd dug up the night before receiving her group assignment flashed across her eyelids, and Mi Sun carefully set the mug down on the table before it slipped from her trembling fingers. _Rika was V's fiancé. Rika founded the RFA. Rika was the coordinator._ The mantra began to echo throughout her brain over and over again, and Mi Sun felt as though the threads she'd been slowly tying to one another knotted together, all at once.

" _Min-Seo?_ " His voice was riddled with worry, and his concern for her only made her feel worse.

Her voice was small when she replied. "I understand."

" _I imagine this is a lot to take in, so I apologize if I have overwhelmed you. If you would be interested, I would like to arrange a meeting for the RFA when I arrive back in Seoul. Perhaps meeting the RFA members might put you at ease, and we can answer any questions that you might have collectively."_ She could hear someone talking in the background, and V paused for a moment to answer them. " _I do not need your answer immediately, of course. You are free to take your time and process. In the meantime, I've asked Seven and Yoosung to do their best to fill in the gaps for you. Seven will be monitoring your safety, so there is no need to panic."_

Mi Sun drew in a long, deflated breath. She felt disgusting - it was a familiar feeling, and the ghastly fingers of self-ridicule wrapping themselves around her throat were something that she had long associated with assignments she took no pleasure in. At least with the assignments she'd endured in the past, Mi Sun had never been instructed to grow artificially close with a group of people under the guise of bonding over their dead loved ones. Furthermore, she hadn't forgotten that V had referred to her and Yoosung as _friends_ , and having someone she cared for involved only made her feel worse. This was precisely why she should have kept her distance. _Stupid, stupid._

"I would like to meet everyone." Despite the turmoil erupting inside of her head, Mi Sun's voice fell from her lips. In her panic, the agent buried inside of her had taken over - she could hardly move to stop herself. "It is definitely overwhelming, but perhaps, since it's for a charity organization…I can help."

She could hear the smile in his voice. " _I am happy to hear that, Min-Seo. I will return to Seoul Saturday morning, three days from now. I can arrange an RFA meeting for sometime later that day, if that works for you."_

"Yes, I'll be free." She'd have an obscene amount of work to do between her assignment on Friday and her homework, but she was used to long hours.

" _Perfect. Unfortunately, I have to go now, but I will reach out to the rest of the members regarding the meeting. I've informed them all of what's going on in the chatroom, so they should be welcoming. If you have any other questions, Luciel can answer them or forward them to me. I hope your day goes well, Min-Seo."_

"You too, V. Thank you." She'd barely gotten the words out before the line went silent, and as Mi Sun's phone fell into her lap, she stared at it as if trying to burn holes into it with her eyes.

A heavy silence filled the air in place of V's soft, reassuring voice, placing pressure across the length of her shoulders and shoving itself forcefully down her throat. _I'm in deep shit now,_ She thought bitterly, fumbling with her fingers. Her coffee was all but forgotten on the table beside the couch. The sun shone brilliantly through the windows across the wall by now, but Mi Sun couldn't bring herself to bask in the light as she normally did. _What am I going to do?_

Interrupting her from her thoughts, her phone chirped from where she'd discarded it. She recognized the same, familiar tone that she'd heard last night before discovering the app, and when she pressed the button to illuminate her notifications, she was met by the same icon. With a sigh, she unlocked the phone and brought up the app and gave it a genuine inspection - something she'd failed to do the night before.

There was a string of contacts across the top of the screen, and upon pressing each icon, she realized that they were profiles. _Jumin Han._ She frowned, thinking that she'd heard that name before…Her curiosity unsatisfied, she quickly trotted over to her desk and plopped down in her chair, shaking her computer awake. After entering her long, winding password, she watched as the screens flashed to life and brought up her browser, doing a basic search of his name. She'd pull up more _personal_ files after returning home from her classes, but for now, she wanted some idea of who she would be speaking to.

_Executive Director and heir of C &R International. _Mi Sun swallowed. So V hadn't been exaggerating when he'd mentioned the involvement of 'high-society' individuals, although she certainly hadn't been expecting the heir of one of the largest companies in South Korea. C&R was a household name, even in households as broken as hers. Her father had done business with them in the past - indirectly, of course, as all his work was - and she'd encountered many agents who had their hands in the company in one subtle way or another. Mi Sun wondered if this Jumin Han knew what went on behind closed doors inside of his company.

Jumin Han's steely gaze was hard to look away from, and Mi Sun could see how his stony expression made him a good executive. He was handsome in a way that commanded attention, not unlike some of her own superiors - although he was far younger than them. His profile banner was a slightly blurred picture that appeared to be taken from a plane, and his status was simple, " _On a business trip._ "

The next profile had a little more life to it. _Zen._ Shiny, silver hair and bright red eyes stared back at her, and despite Mi Sun's continued disinterest in men, she couldn’t help the light dusting of pink across her cheeks. He was even more handsome than Jumin, but in a way that almost seemed unfair. She repeated the process in her browser, and within seconds, Mi Sun's jaw hung open in awe.

"A musical actor?" She pondered aloud, eyes falling on the countless fan-run forums and pages about his work. He wasn't an A-list celebrity by any means, but he surely had a following; she made a mental note to avoid conversing with too much to him, as she didn't need to be a genius to tell that he'd be recognized in public.

His profile picture was a shameless selfie, and his profile banner appeared to be a formal photograph of him, perhaps for a role. His status read, " _God-given looks,"_ and despite the narcissism of it, Mi Sun chuckled. While Jumin appeared to be the same sort of cold, calculated type that she was used to in her own agency, something about Zen appeared to be overall softer…not unlike Yoosung.

Next was Seven's profile, and a small, knowing smile touched Mi Sun's lips as she gazed at the photo of him. It was an image taken from the side, and he wore the same, stoic expression she'd begun to associate with him being deep in thought. In the times he thought that she wasn't watching, she'd seen that calculated gaze; try as he might to be cheery on the outside, she could see the cogs turning inside of his head. Selfishly, some part of her wondered if he might be the only person in her life who had any understanding of the life that she lived.

_No, stupid. Your luck doesn't go that far._

She skipped over the rest of his profile and selected the next one, warmth spreading over her face. _Yoosung._ His profile picture, she realized, was a candid photo she'd taken of him during one of their study sessions. He was glancing sideways at her with an inquisitive look on his face, and moments after, he'd taken the phone from her and threatened to delete it. Of course, after assuring him it was a good picture, he'd given in and sheepishly asked her to send it to him. Now she understood what had become of it.

His profile banner was LOLOL related, as was his status, but Mi Sun had expected no less. As V said, this spontaneous introduction and impending role as the new party coordinator was overwhelming, but perhaps it would be easier with some familiar faces. Furthermore, although she felt horrible about this assignment, if she could do some good for Yoosung, that made her feel a little better…

_How do you suppose you're going to do him any good?_ The bitter voice inside of her brain spat at her, _Even if you help him, you're going to burn it all down in the end. He'll just replace his grief with your betrayal._

She swallowed again, moving on to the last profile. _Jaehee Kang._ A quick search found no large-scale results, although Mi Sun did manage to uncover that the woman was Jumin Han's Chief secretary. She had an air of professionalism about her, but there was a softness in her face and eyes that didn't put Mi Sun off. Her profile banner was a picture of a flower, and her status simply read, " _Note: prepare for luncheon meeting._ " Mi Sun sighed, thankful that there was another woman, at least.

There was no profile for V, but she wasn't surprised. He didn't seem the type to frequent chatrooms, and as he'd told her to contact through Seven, she imagined he didn't enjoy having his information on display.

Bracing herself, Mi Sun minimized the profiles. There was a gallery of photos saved in the messenger, a call function, a place to edit her own profile, and functions that she assumed were related to her role, although they were disabled. All that left was the messenger itself, and although Mi Sun had already engaged with Seven, she felt a swell of nerves in her chest. It was morning now, after all, and that meant more people were likely to be on.

_Just do it,_ Her brain beckoned her, and Mi Sun's hands obliged.

_Min has entered the chatroom._

**Yoosung** **★**

Min!!!!!!!

I've been waiting for you to join

I can't believe this happened!

**Min**

Good morning, Yoosung!

Yeah, it's very strange

I'm still not really sure what happened either

**ZEN**

Oh, the woman of the hour~

Nice to meet you~!

I'm Zen. (24 yrs old) Musical actor…Don't look me up on the internet

**Min**

Too late lol

**ZEN**

I see~

A curious one

Cute…^^

**Yoosung** **★**

stop showing off to Min!

you're gonna make her uncomfortable

**Min**

Lol don't worry Yoosung

Nice to meet you, Zen!

**ZEN**

You too, princess~

_707 has entered the chatroom._

**ZEN**

Oh, hey Seven

Min's here

**707**

ya that’s why I joined lolol

Min

did V call?

**Min**

Yes he did

Woke me up

Lol

**707**

How rude ~~

**Yoosung** **★**

Why would he call so early !!!

that's so inconsiderate

ugh

**Min**

Lol

It's ok

I was going to get up soon anyways

At least now I get to have breakfast

**ZEN**

Do you not normally?

You know, you should really eat all three meals

Breakfast is important~

**Yoosung** **★**

Min

you better be eating breakfast!

**707**

the masses have spoken

**Min**

Guys, relax

I usually grab something quick

No worries lol

**707**

this wouldn't be an issue if you had

some good old

HBC

**Yoosung** **★**

Not this again … ;;

**707**

the greatest snack

for any time of day

#1 meal replacement

**ZEN**

That's really not healthy, Seven

You should eat proper meals, dude

**707**

HBC is all I need

!!!

**Min**

…?

HBC?

**Yoosung** **★**

Here we go…

**707**

oh, disciple

you do not know the wonders of HBC

God Seven is here to teach you

….

about the glorious

honey Buddha Chip!

**Min**

Oh, that's what you meant

Lol

Had them before

**707**

….

……..

?!?!?!?!?!

could it be?

someone who finally understands?

**Yoosung** **★**

Min actually got me some the other night

said she knows a place lolol

**707**

?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

HBC is supposed to be my turf

**Min**

Sounds vaguely illegal

You're the one who brought Yoosung a case

I can't compare to that

**ZEN**

A case ….?

Yoosung

Are you going to eat all of those

??????

**Yoosung** **★**

Possibly …

not all at once !

They're so good!

Have you had them before, Zen?

**ZEN**

…No

So bad for you, dude

You should really eat better

**Yoosung** **★**

Says the guy who smokes and drinks!

I usually eat normal meals!

**707**

tell that to your cup noodles

**Min**

….

lolol

_Jumin Han has entered the chatroom._

**ZEN**

Ugh

CEO-in-line is here

**Jumin Han**

Hello, Zen.

I was informed that the new person is here.

**ZEN**

Dude. Would it kill you to use her name?

You're so formal and rude

**Jumin Han**

How was I rude?

I was merely stating what happened.

**Yoosung** **★**

There they go

**707**

lolol

yeah

Min, this is a pretty common thing

those two argue like a married couple

**ZEN**

Dude

Gross

As if I would marry that trust-fund jerk

He's practically married to that furball anyways

**Min**

…

Uh, hi

Nice to meet you

Furball?

**707**

my Elly

!!!!!!!

**Jumin Han**

Her name is Elizabeth the 3rd.

Please do not give her frilly nicknames.

**Yoosung** **★**

Elizabeth is Jumin's cat, Min

**Jumin Han**

Yes, she is the picture of grace.

Anyway, it is nice to meet you, Min.

V tells me that you are to stay in the messenger for the moment.

**ZEN**

Is it true you might be our party coordinator?

That would be awesome~~

**Yoosung** **★**

We could hold parties again…

**707**

Guys, relax

I doubt Min's decided yet lol

V said to give her time

**Min**

Yeah, he told me to think about it

He said he's going to organize a meeting for this Saturday

That way, I can meet all of you and ask questions

**Jumin Han**

Yes, he informed me of this, as well.

I have instructed Assistant Kang to add it to my calendar.

**ZEN**

Where is Jaehee, anyway?

You better not be overworking her, you jerk

**Jumin Han**

Assistant Kang had matters to attend to.

I do not decide when she joins the chatroom.

She is at work, after all.

**ZEN**

So are you!

Double standard!

**Yoosung** **★**

it's pretty early, anyways

i'm sure she'll join later!

Anyways,

I have to go now

See u in class, Min!

**Min**

See you, Yoosung

Don't forget to bring the prototypes

We have a study period, so we can work on it

**Yoosung** **★**

Will do!

Don't forget to eat breakfast~

Bye bye!

_Yoosung_ _★ has left the chatroom._

**ZEN**

Prototypes?

Oh, right, you guys are classmates

What is that about?

**Jumin Han**

Yes, I am intrigued, as well.

**707**

It's actually pretty cool lol

Yoosung is doing well in school!

I can't believe it

!!!

They grow up so fast

**ZEN**

Oh, seriously?

That's good

Are you helping him, Min~? ^^

**Min**

Lol you're giving me too much credit

Our project was Yoosung's idea

I just built the prototype

**Jumin Han**

What were the instructions for the assignment?

It is not common to create a product for a lecture.

**Min**

We had to take our last unit and find a real-world application

For the material.

Yoosung loves animals,

So we decided to make a prosthetic that's high quality, but affordable

It was his idea

He said that pet owners deserve to have accessible options for their pets

Prosthetics can be really expensive

**ZEN**

Wow, that's…

Actually really cool

That was Yoosung's idea?

**Jumin Han**

I am surprised, as well.

**707**

Yoosung does love animals

the passion!

the dedication!

Defender of Justice, Agent 707

is very proud!

of Yoosung, Defender of

….

..

Animals!

**Jumin Han**

So you've created a prototype of this prosthetic?

**Min**

Mhm!

Yoosung did the research

What's on the market right now, material prices, etc

It was super helpful when I built it

**ZEN**

I'm impressed that you could build something like that

A smart girl~!

**Min**

I'm a computer science major lol

I have experience with robotics

**707**

Min's design is actually pretty impressive

Of course, not as impressive as

Some of my inventions

**Jumin Han**

I would be interested to see this prototype.

It appears that Yoosung is dependable, after all.

**Min**

That's harsh lol

Yoosung is incredible when he sets his mind to something

He's really excited about this project

**707**

lolol

u should have seen him

there were stars in his eyes

**ZEN**

You and Yoosung are pretty close, Min

You're having a good effect on him~~^^

**Min**

Oh, um

That's really all him

I just made the prototype

Lol

**Jumin Han**

I look forward to seeing what becomes of your project.

You shall have to show me.

**Min**

Yeah, sure

**ZEN**

You can't just make demands, you jerk

Min, don't feel like you have to

The CEO-in-line probably just wants to steal your idea

**Jumin Han**

I would do no such thing.

I am merely interested in their innovation.

**707**

lololol

beware Min !!!!!!

the corporate shark will profit from your hard work !!

**Min**

Haha

It's just a lump of plastic

It's really nothing revolutionary lol

..

Oh, it's getting late

I have to go get ready

It was nice to meet you all!

**ZEN**

Don't forget about breakfast~!

I look forward to meeting you in person

**Jumin Han**

Yes, likewise. This has been a pleasant surprise.

I shall return to work now.

**707**

tell yoosung I said hi lol

also, im going to call you soon

V asked me to explain some things

**Min**

I'll keep an ear out

Later!

_Min has left the chatroom._

**ZEN**

She seems nice

**Jumin Han**

Yes, she is not what I was expecting.

I imagined her to be more like Yoosung, as they are friends.

**707**

Min isn't like Yoosung at all lolol

**ZEN**

You met her?  
When?!?!

Not fair!

**Jumin Han**

I do not understand your frustration.

You are meeting her Saturday.

**ZEN**

Of course you wouldn't understand

Because you're a robot, jerk

Seven got to meet her first!

**707**

That's because I'm God Seven

Min is quiet, but she's kind

She's actually pretty funny

**Jumin Han**

She appears to be intelligent, as well.

**707**

Ya lol

Anyways,

I have work to do

Adios!

_707 has left the chatroom._

_Jumin Han has left the chatroom._

_ZEN has left the chatroom._

As she went about her morning routine, Mi Sun couldn't help the small smile that hung desperately from her lips. She knew that her entire purpose in growing close to these people was for the sake of her assignment, but that didn't make her any less content with the interaction. She couldn't make them her friends - she didn't have that luxury - but she could indulge the conversations…right? After all, they'd be more likely to open up to her if they considered her a friend.

She tied her hair up out of her face and donned a light sweater and trousers. Although her father was not around to nitpick her choice of clothing, Min Sun had been raised to dress properly at all times. Her clothes were simplistic but put together, and although she was not formal or high-fashion by any means, she carried a poised aura to her. Her hair was neat, her clothes were wrinkle-free, and much like the tidy apartment, nothing about her appeared particularly out of place. She'd received far too many criticisms from her father throughout her life to give up on the habit now. Furthermore, she never knew when her father would summon her to his office, and she didn't need to add to the list of things he chose to reprimand her about.

As she slid her laptop and phone into her bag and grabbed her keys, Mi Sun made a mental note to ask Yoosung about the RFA members, as well. Zen and Jumin's bickering had given her a few small chuckles, and Yoosung seemed every bit his perky, outgoing self in the chatrooms as he had in person. Jaehee hadn't been online, so Mi Sun had no first impression of her, but she imagined that wouldn't take long.

Seven, however, confused her. When she'd met him the day before, he'd had the same cheery charm as his online persona, but the 707 in the chatroom was far more outspoken than the redhead she'd sat across from in the café. They were similar, sure, but his online personality held none of the calculated attitude she'd encountered. Who is he? She thought for what felt like the thousandth time that day, locking her apartment behind her and setting the security system.

__________________________________________

"I don't understand what's going on." Yoosung's voice was a soft whine as he popped a fry into his mouth, leaning forward onto his elbows. His hair was unruly, despite his attempts to pin it back, and Mi Sun could only imagine how little sleep he'd gotten due to LOLOL. His addiction was nothing new to her, but it didn't make her worry any less. "How does an app just appear on a phone? You didn't leave it anywhere, right?"

Mi Sun shook her head, pulling her straw from between her lips. After finishing their classes for the day, they'd decided to continue discussing their project plans over lunch; Yoosung declared that he could no longer tolerate the less-than-appetizing cafeteria food, and Mi Sun was secretly thankful that she wouldn't have to eat Cup Noodles in his dorm room.

"It was with me the whole time." She tore a piece of chicken off of her sandwich, pressing it between her lips thoughtfully. As she chewed, she tapped her chin, trying to remember if there had been any moments where she'd left her school phone unattended. It was on the table in the café, She recalled, and she'd gone to the bathroom…Seven. She'd left the phone on the table with Seven, but Yoosung had been there. Surely he'd have noticed if Seven hacked her phone.

"This is so weird." Yoosung shook his head and took a bite of his burger, violet eyes looking around the restaurant thoughtfully. "At least we have Seven. I'm sure he'll figure it out."

Right. "He's a hacker, right?" She asked, digging into her fries. As nonchalantly as she could, she continued, "So he does security for the RFA? He must be good."

Yoosung nodded enthusiastically. "He's a genius. He made the RFA app, and he's coded a ton of stuff. I think he coded V's security system…and Rika's, too." Yoosung's expression shifted distastefully at mention of V and his late cousin, but he quickly recovered, "Plus, he does other stuff. Secret stuff."

Mi Sun quirked a brow. Bingo. "Secret stuff?"

"Yeah, his work. He won't tell us about it, and we don't ask. I worry, though." Yoosung bit his lip and glanced down at his food, pushing a few fries around in ther wrapper. "His work seems dangerous."

"I can understand why you'd worry." Mi Sun's voice wavered a little, but she quickly forced a sympathetic smile onto her face. Despite the chill that the revelation sent down her spine, a small part of her understood Yoosung's concern. If Seven was a hacker involved in dangerous activities, he likely understood the weight of her world to some degree. It would also make sense, then, why he'd been analyzing her so closely - he was assessing the threat.

"Yeah, but I trust him. We all do." Yoosung said it matter-of-factly and without a shred of doubt, and that made Mi Sun's smile more genuine. You are his best friend, aren't you? "Anyway, is he coming?"

Mi Sun pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen, checking the time. Seven had called as promised when she'd first gotten out of class, and Yoosung had snatched her phone from her hands and demanded that Seven "leave the bunker to socialize". Seven's protests on the other line had made her chuckle, but eventually, he'd been unable to deny Yoosung's stubborn insistence. He should have been arriving any minute.

She contemplated calling him, but as her finger hovered over his contact, a voice came from behind their table.

"Aw, Min, you wanted to see me that badly?" Seven teased, plopping into the booth beside Yoosung and gazing at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Impatient, tsk, tsk."

She rolled her eyes, but a subtle smile ghosted across her lips. "Only because you're late," Mi Sun retorted, munching on another fry.

"Yeah!" Yoosung chirped, looking at Seven sharply. "Here, I got these for you." He picked up an extra box of fries and pushed them towards Seven, who gazed at them with his eyebrows raised over the rims of his glasses.

"Aw, Yoosungie~" Seven cooed, taking the box, "You shouldn't have!"

"This too," Mi Sun added, shoving a drink in his direction. "Ph.D. Pepper, right?"

"Wow, you guys really know how to make a man swoon." Seven, knowing the repercussions of refusing the food after last time, took the offered snacks without hesitation and began to munch happily on the fries. Mi Sun and Yoosung had opted for getting him something, if not a full meal, to hopefully circumvent the inevitable effects his horrible diet would have on his body - at least temporarily.

Without skipping a beat, Yoosung glanced at Seven and set his sandwich down, doing his best to appear serious. "So, any news about the hacker? I still don't fully understand how all of this happened. Why Min, of all people?"

"Hey," Mi Sun called teasingly, scrunching her nose up. "What are you trying to say? I'm not cute enough to be hacker bait?"

Yoosung's cheeks flushed a brilliant red, and beside him, Seven choked on the fry he'd been swallowing. After forcing it down with soda, he glanced between them and began to snicker at Yoosung's expression, clapping a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Yeah, Yoosung, you don't think Min's good enough?"

"Th-that's not what I meant!" Yoosung stammered, tongue twisting nervously over his words. He slipped out of Seven's grasp and put a hand over his face, doing his best to hide his embarrassment. From behind the safety of his fingers, he whined, "Min~…I didn't mean it like that!"

"I'm just teasing, Yoosung," Min said, giggling softly. "I understand what you mean. I don't feel like I'm all that exciting." She didn't miss Seven's eyes lingering on her at the words, as if he begged to differ, but she wouldn't comment on that.

"I mean, I don't think that's the point." Seven finished chewing his food before he continued, "If they're after confidential guest information, they need to get to the RFA. We've all experienced security threats before, so we're a little more careful." He took a sip from his drink and waved a hand at her dismissively. "You're friends with Yoosung and overall unsuspecting. If their plan with the app failed, they could probably hack Yoosung through you."

Mi Sun and Yoosung gazed at him in silence. Yoosung seemed appalled by the notion, but the cogs inside of Mi Sun's brain were turning. Something about Seven's explanation made her uneasy, and not because of the possible threat looming over her head. Her security at home was elite, and she wasn't stupid enough to connect her spare devices to her work network. The hacker would have to personally follow her home and surpass her security measures - of which there were many - to catch a glimpse of anything confidential.

If anything, it bothered her how nonchalant he appeared to be about this. She said as much, "You seem calm about this."

Seven smiled wickedly, bobbing his head up and down. "God Seven is no amateur! If there's a hacker in our system, I'll find him. He's going to have to try a lot harder than that."

"That's reassuring." Mi Sun flashed him a pointed gaze and returned her attention to her food, mulling over his words and behavior. Something was definitely off here.

"Yeah, I trust you." Yoosung, who had recovered from his momentary stunned silence, finished his food and crumbled the wrappers into a tight ball. He took a sip of his drink and glanced at Seven, smiling cheerily. "I'm sure you'll catch him!"

As their conversation took a lighter turn, Yoosung began to chat happily about the RFA's past and the effects that his cousin, Rika, had had on the organization. Mi Sun took mental notes of any clues that he gave her about Rika's personal life or potential motives, and it was not lost on her how deeply intertwined Rika's past had been with the RFA - she'd founded it, after all. Knowing this, Mi Sun's questions surrounding Rika's involvement with the missing people across Seoul only seemed to burn holes in her brain. The threads were knotting together, but they weren't quite connected yet…Something was still missing.

Yoosung did his best to answer her questions, although regrettably, Mi Sun hadn't come prepared with many. She figured that the other members would explain her duties extensively during their meeting on Saturday, and she'd have enough time between now and then to sit down and write out a proper list of questions - both personal and for the benefit of her assignment. For now, she was content to see Yoosung speak so animatedly about the organization.

Seven offered comments every now and then, but as with their last encounter, he was overall quiet and calculated. He watched her as if waiting for her to slip up and make some sort of mistake, and Mi Sun could feel the heat of his gaze even when they made direct eye contact. It was almost as if he'd stopped trying to hide it, and wanted her to know that she was being watched. Had she not been conversing so innocently with Yoosung, she might have laughed. He was subtle, surely, and she imagined this tactic applied a gracious amount of pressure to his targets.

But Mi Sun would not be outdone. As often as she could manage, she'd turn his calculated gaze back on him and meet him head-on. She stared at him as if daring him to ask his questions out loud, as she knew he wouldn't - not in front of Yoosung. Each time she hit him with the same intensity, there was a small gleam in his eyes and he'd look away, seeming almost flustered.

After they'd all finished eating, the three of them walked half-hazardly through the plaza towards Yoosung's dorm. Yoosung had homework to do, he claimed, but Seven didn't hesitate to remind him that he was fully aware of the LOLOL event happening. Sheepishly, Yoosung gave in, insisting that they'd do this again and he would stay longer - neither of them believed him, but it was alright. Once Seven assured him that he'd make sure Mi Sun got to her car safely, Yoosung disappeared into his building.

It was evening by then, and the sun had begun to slip behind the skyline. The sky was painted with beautiful shades of coral and lavender, blending seamlessly into the haunting grey-blues of the night creeping in. As they walked towards the parking lot, the world seemed to quiet; it was a Wednesday, and although the campus was hardly empty, fewer students milled about than she'd expected. Mi Sun was unsure why the prospect of being alone with the hacker made her uneasy, but she had an overwhelming feeling that something had changed.

"So do you normally stay up so late?" Seven asked suddenly, glancing at her. They walked side-by-side with a foot of space between them. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, and Mi Sun gripped the straps of her backpack on her shoulders, staring down at her feet.

She caught his eyes, tilting her head thoughtfully. "I suppose. I'm a bit of a night owl."

"Mm," Seven hummed, clicking his tongue, "Me too, although it's not by choice."

"Ah." Mi Sun smiled softly at him. "I imagine you're busy, between the RFA's security and your other work."

He looked as though he wanted to stop cold in his tracks, but much to her surprise, Seven grit his teeth and let out a tight chuckle. "Yoosung talks too much."

"Mm." She repeated the humming sound he'd made moments ago, eyes falling from his and fixing on the cars ahead of them. The sun had fallen further, and now only traces of light swiped across the skyline. The streetlights had flickered on, and the sidewalk around them basked in hazy, fluorescent light.

They walked in silence for a few more moments, but just before they reached where the sidewalk gave way to asphalt and the first row of cars crept up on them, Seven made a sharp turn towards the building to their right. The parking lot wrapped around behind it, and between that building and the one beside it, there was a small alleyway that curved around the building, creating a small space out of sight. Seven started down the side street without a word, and Mi Sun knew what it meant. Tightening her grasp on her straps, she followed him.

It wasn't until they'd turned the corner and were out of sight that he stopped, golden eyes seeming almost illuminated in the low light. Had she not been sure of her own skills, she might have feared the menacing waves rolling off of his shoulders. He didn't threaten her, nor did he have any hostility in his expression or body language, but there was an aura about him that whispered of potential consequences.

"So what is 606?" He asked, voice even.

Mi Sun stepped past him without a word, releasing one strap off of her left shoulder and leaning against the wall, meeting his gaze with a cool one of her own. "606?" She asked, raising a brow. Her tone held no recognition, but the innocent air about her had dissipated, as well. She seemed completely devoid of emotion, just as he did. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"And I suppose you expect that I believe your story about your lip, too." Seven crossed his arms and gazed at her, but still, there was no bite to his words. He was simply asking a question, and to her, he seemed so sure of the outcome that he didn't need to threaten her.

So he was underestimating her, she figured. Mi Sun supposed that was to be expected; jumping to conclusions about someone being a threat was easy, but she knew that her looks were deceiving regarding her line of work, and she hadn't thrown him enough of a bone to start making guesses about her profession. "I fell," She said simply, tucking one ankle behind the other. Her posture was comfortable and unbothered, as if they were having a conversation as friends.

"So you've said," Seven murmured, pulling one hand from his pockets. He rubbed it over his chin as if deciding on what to say next, and then added, "It's a lie, but you seem adamant about that story."

Her stomach twisted, but Mi Sun showed no signs of discomfort. She'd been trained for this. _He's waiting for an opening_. "Geez, Seven," She said softly, a dry laugh following her words. She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck and looked at him with her nose scrunched, "You're really giving me the third degree here."

He didn't laugh. "Who are you?"

"Uh, Min? We've met, you know."

"Min." His tone was still even, but there was an edge to his voice now. The cheery, mischievous redhead she'd shared lunch with didn't exist inside of this person before her. "Min-Seo Cho. A girl from a normal family, with normal parents, a normal background, and normal plans for her future, right?"

"I guess," She said thoughtfully, scuffing her shoe against the ground. "You make me sound so boring."

Again, he didn't laugh. "Yet, Min-Seo Cho is a girl who randomly owns a professional robotics kit, and fluently speaks a variety of languages. She's a girl who practices high-society etiquette inside of a fast-food chain, even when she thinks it's not noticeable." He tilted his head at her, and the movement was almost cat-like. "She's a girl who sometimes mysteriously leaves in a panic; who talks to suited men in dark parking lots in the middle of the night; who gets into her car with those men, and then comes back with bruises. Should I continue?"

She swallowed. The knot in her stomach twisted again, and Mi Sun could feel the tension beginning to build along her spine. She wasn't scared of him, but she certainly wasn't fooling him, and the agent within her had an edge of its own. A small, selfish part of her hated to see him regard her in this way, and she desperately wished that while she was not Min, she could be, if only for a little while. _No. Stupid. Min-Seo is a mask and nothing more._

"What do you want, Seven?" The question was more pointed than she had been before, and as it slipped from her throat, she stood up straight and looked at him with a cool expression.

"What do _you_ want?"

"You ask a lot of questions." She said it without missing a beat, and she could see the effect that her sudden change had on him. She hadn't admitted to being anyone else, but Seven wasn't stupid, and as the realization that he'd been right - that there was more going on here than she let on - hit him, his shoulders tensed.

"You don't answer them," He fired back, pulling his other hand out of his pocket. His arms hung limply at his sides, but she knew the intention; if she were to completely discard her mask and make a move, he couldn't very well defend himself with his hands wrapped in his hoodie.

"I can't." Despite her calm demeanor, the word sounded hollow. For only a second, a sorrowful expression crossed her features.

Unbeknown to her, he'd seen it.

***

He'd seen it. The lilt in her frown and the soft draw of her eyebrows, although fleeting, had graced the skin of her face for a mere second. _No, this is wrong,_ Seven's brain was screaming at him, but he couldn't take the time to sort his flurry of thoughts with this mind-boggling girl in front of him. The situation could change at any moment, and he'd need to be ready.

Although her tone was even and her body language composed, Seven could read between the lines; in no words, she'd confirmed his suspicions that she wasn't who she claimed to be - at least not entirely. She was far too calm in this situation and appeared to take no offense to someone she'd bonded with suddenly accusing her of…something. It almost seemed as if she'd been expecting this outcome.

"You can't?" He asked thoughtfully, searching her face for anything to go on. He wanted to believe that the Min he'd seen interacting so sincerely with Yoosung existed, but he had to be absolutely sure. If she wasn't who she said she was…Yoosung - and the RFA, by extension - could be in more trouble than he'd originally anticipated.

"I can't." She repeated it simply. Without another word, Min grabbed her bag and started forward, sending a wave of tension through Seven's body. She stopped a foot in front of him, eyes holding his with an intensity he hadn't seen before. "Stop asking me questions, Seven. I'm…" For a moment, her collected exterior faulted, and Seven thought he might have seen a glimpse of something…pained? "I can't answer them."

"Can't, or won't?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head, stepping past him. Without thinking, Seven snaked a hand out and grabbed her wrist, barring her from leaving by tucking her wrist up behind her and grabbing her shoulder, holding her in place. It was a fairly basic hold, but she wouldn't be able to get out of it without causing serious injury to her arm.

Much to his surprise, she huffed at him. Without a word, Min's free hand snaked up to his and she pressed a point on his wrist, sending ripples of pain shooting up his arm. Breath hissed between his teeth, and she seized the opportunity to flex her captured wrist and twist it downwards, breaking free of his hold and using her own hands to return the favor. In what seemed like a millisecond, she pressed his own arms together and twisted them upwards, using her weight to press him into the wall behind her. As his cheek met the brick, albeit not too harshly, his eyes widened incredulously at her.

Her eyes were hard as she gazed at him then, and her breaths fell - labored, although not from expelled effort - from her lips. She blinked, and suddenly her expression contorted into something else entirely. It was as if a monster had overcome her, angry and defensive, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. She seemed almost as confused as him. 

"I…" She said, voice smaller than before, "I'm sorry. Please…don't touch me." 

She released his arms and stepped back, holding her hands around the width of her torso, as if she were comforting herself. Seven rolled the tension from his arms and turned around, his incredulous expression still present on his face. She was rubbing at the skin where he'd touched her as if he'd harmed her, and while Seven knew he hadn't applied enough pressure to elicit such a response, he couldn't shake the way his breath caught at the defensiveness hanging by a thread in her eyes. 

"How?" He asked, studying her frame. She was smaller than him by a significant amount, and yet, she'd broken his hold and incapacitated him without blinking an eye. _How did she do that? Who is she?_ The questions erupted in his brain once more.

She laughed bitterly, and Seven couldn't help but think how out-of-place the sound was in her mouth. "Let's just say I'm used to being picked on my men larger than you." She wouldn't meet his eyes.

Seven's stomach twisted as if he'd been wounded, and when he met her eyes again, his expression was slightly softer. Despite not knowing her intentions or who she really was, there was something about her that displaced him…it called to him. He felt some familiarity with her that he couldn't begin to fathom. "Is that where you got that, then?" He asked, referring to her lip. It was closer to healing than it had been last time he'd seen her, but it was still visible.

"Please," She said softly, sounding almost…tired. "Stop asking me questions."

"You answered my last one," He retorted, his voice more firm. She'd answered his question about how she'd pinned him without hesitation, however vague her answer had been. It was a start, at least.

Min rubbed her hands over her face and set her backpack on the ground, pulling the front zipper across the width of the pocket. She pulled her phone from inside, holding it up as if she were presenting it. "You're the one who put the app on my phone, aren't you?"

His face twisted. _How had she figured that out so quickly?_ "Why would you think-"

"I haven't left my phone unattended for even a second, except last night, with you. The others might not understand that you can't make an app magically appear on a phone without access to it, but I do. Whoever put this app on my phone had a direct connection to it." She mulled over her deductions out loud as if it had been easy, and whereas Seven should have been frustrated, he found himself impressed.

"You're clever."

"No," She said, tucking her phone back into her backpack. "Just observant. So, why?"

He gazed at her for a moment. "So you're asking me questions?"

"Why, Seven?" The way she gazed at him fixed him in place.

"I'm in charge of security for the RFA," He said simply, as if it were obvious. "Yoosung told me about your encounter in the parking lot, and something felt off to me. I need to make sure that you're not a threat."

"And what do you think?" Her voice had grown soft again, but she held his gaze. An emotion that he didn't recognize swam in her eyes. "Am I a threat, Seven?"

Her use of his nickname made his breath catch in his throat. It wasn't as if he wanted her to be…but he didn't know for sure. "I haven't decided yet."

"So what is this, then? Are you deciding?" She pulled the straps of her backpack over her shoulders again. She looked ready to disappear. He knew the feeling. "Is that why you've been entertaining Yoosung and meeting up with us?"

"Yes and no." He hadn't had any intention of telling her that, but for some reason, Seven found himself unable to stop. "I wanted to observe you, but Yoosung is also my best friend, and…I enjoy your company."

Her expression twisted again. Before she could say anything, he continued, "It's not as if I take pleasure in this, Min. I think that you are perfectly pleasant, and you're a good friend to Yoosung, it's just that I don't want to play cat-and-mouse with you anymore. If you have your own secrets, fine, but know this: if you have any intention of harming Yoosung or the RFA, I will not take it sitting down." An edge entered his voice, and his gaze was harsher than before. He needed her to understand how serious he was. "If you become a threat to the RFA, I will take care of it. There are no exceptions."

His threat hung in the air between them. Min seemed to be mulling over it, and to his relief, she nodded. "I understand." With her hands on her straps, she stepped past him again; he didn't move to stop her this time.

Before she could round the corner, Min stopped, turning her head in a way that allowed her to call over her shoulder. "For what it's worth," Min murmured, sounding more like herself now. The soft expression on her face made his chest ache. "Yoosung is my friend. You all seem like nice people, even if you're threatening me." She laughed bitterly again, but the delivery was much more gentle. Min glanced down at her feet, and something told Seven that she felt unsure of what she wanted to say. Must she really keep so quiet about it? He couldn't imagine what was going on in her life that she'd stick to her confidentiality so adamantly.

"Just please stop asking questions." It was a plea this time, and Seven found himself wishing desperately to understand. "I…I can't give you the answers that you want, and I can't promise you anything, but…" Her words were wavering, as was her voice. She seemed shaky, desperate. "I won't harm Yoosung, and if you deem me a threat to the RFA at any point," She turned to him, and the reassuring smile that graced her face shattered his heart to pieces, "Then please don't hesitate to take care of it, Seven. I won't hold it against you, I promise."

"Min-"

"Now, it's kind of late, and I have some other work to do." She chuckled sheepishly and ran a hand through her hair, returning to her old self before his very eyes. "Is there anything else?"

"No, but…I-" All of a sudden, Seven felt entirely unsure of himself. This conversation hadn't gone at all how he expected. "How can you be so calm about this? Something seems very… _wrong_ , here." Her gentle smile didn't falter, and it only spurred him on. "Min, are you in trouble?"

"Don't worry about me." She said it easily, like a practiced line. As if to accentuate herself, her reassuring smile returned and she flashed him a thumbs up. "I can bear all of the ugly stuff, so don't worry about me, Seven! Just keep the RFA safe, okay?" Her voice wavered on the final word.

His lips parted in surprise, and Seven took a step in her direction. "Min-"

"Goodnight, 707," She said softly, giving him a small wave. "I'll see you this weekend."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and began down the side street, leaving Seven to mull over her words in careful, sullen silence. He couldn't erase her range of pained, falsified expressions from his mind, and each time he tried to revisit her answers and assess the threat, he saw that emotion brewing in her eyes. Now, without her standing in front of him, he realized what it was.

She'd accepted the outcome of her actions, whatever they might be. He didn't know who Min was or who her goals aligned with, but he knew enough to recognize that she had no power in her own situation. It was far too similar to his own, and it made his heart ache to think that someone so unobtrusive and approachable - as he'd experienced in his time with her and Yoosung - had a role even remotely similar to his. Had she resolved herself to face the consequences, no matter what they were?

_A disregard for the future_. That was the emotion, if it could be called that. Bitter apathy. Acceptance.

She'd pleaded with him not to ask questions, but that wasn't enough for him. Nothing made sense, and although she'd urged him to continue monitoring her, he felt as though things had played out too calmly. If she were a threat, shouldn't she be upset that he was onto her? Shouldn't she have made a move to silence him? Instead, she'd resigned herself to her fate almost immediately.

_606._ The nickname echoed in his brain again, and Seven frowned. _A file that seems too normal. A codename. Work that she won't talk about._ _Pieces that don't add up_. He thought back to the way she'd incapacitated him without even breaking a sweat, and his frown deepened. _Fast reflexes. Hand-to-hand training. Acute observational skills. Multi-lingual. A minute understanding of computers, particularly robotics._

Surely, it wasn't possible. Surely, he had gotten this all wrong and she was just an ordinary girl with random quirks about her that made no sense. Surely, that split on her lip really had come from a fall, and her reflexes and distrustful attitude were just things she'd picked up. Surely, Yoosung's close friend was everything that she claimed to be.

He desperately hoped so. " _I can bear all of the ugly stuff_ ," She'd said, and what had she meant by that? What sorts of things was Min enduring?

If the lip was any indication, Seven had a horrible feeling about this.

_I need to know more._


	8. Banquet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mi Sun is given a side assignment, and while the plan is rather easy, she doesn't expect to come face-to-face with a certain corporate heir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am SO sorry that this update took so long :( Work got hectic for me and I didn't want to force the chapter out if I wasn't passionate about what I was writing, so I waited until the words came to me. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> TW: Depressive thoughts, mentions of non-consensual touching (non-explicit)

Two days had passed. Thursday had come and gone without much of note, although Mi Sun supposed that was more her fault than anyone else's. Beyond her classes with him and their brief venture to work on their project, she'd avoided Yoosung - and Seven, by extension. She'd checked into the RFA chatroom a couple of times from the confines of her apartment, but Mi Sun couldn't bring herself to fully engage them until she had the chance to meet them in person. Ever since her conversation with Seven, there had been an uncomfortable knot forming in the pit of her stomach, and the sight of his username in the chatroom only made the knot expand.

He didn't trust her, and why should he? Could she really blame him - or any of them - for having their suspicions?

_7:30 am_. Normally, she'd be getting ready for class at this time, but Mi Sun had emailed her professors the day before to inform them that she would not be in attendance today. Her attendance was perfect, so one absence would hardly tarnish her record, but her professors seemed to appreciate the heads up. One had given her a detailed guide to the lecture to help with the homework, and another had dismissed her assignment for the day entirely. Although she felt guilty for lying about her reason, she was thankful for their helpfulness.

Music thumped loudly from the portable speaker on her nightstand, and although she couldn't quite bring herself to get into it, she mindlessly mouthed the words to the familiar song. Listening to her playlists while working on agency assignments wasn't uncommon for her, as Mi Sun found that the beat helped her to drown out any unnecessary thoughts, but as of late, she'd become increasingly reliant on the beats while doing mindless tasks, too. Her doubts and insecurities were louder than ever, although she could hardly fathom why. It seemed that any moment of quiet was enough to send her spiraling.

Perhaps she'd mention it to her supervisor, Taehyun. Her relationship with him was hard to put into words - she had never tried. He was under her father's authority, and so he treated her with the same distanced, cool demeanor as any other agent in their branch, but there were soft sympathies in his actions sometimes that spoke volumes to her. Like a few select others, Taehyun seemed to pity her situation in his own way; he knew better than to contradict her father's words or actions, but he always seemed available to pick up the pieces.

She knew that he would recommend reconditioning. With such a man as her biological father, Mi Sun's childhood had been safely tucked away into a box of trauma that she kept buried. She'd never had the leisure to address it properly, and in her line of work, there was little time or room for things like that. It was a rare occurrence, but every now and then her missions would push her past what Taehyun referred to as the "threshold", and she'd be submitted for reconditioning to desensitize herself and tighten the seal on her emotions. It was a horrid process, but she'd bitterly accepted that it was necessary for her survival - both in and out of the agency.

As if her thoughts were predictive of the world around her, a knock echoed through the apartment - only one. Mi Sun sighed and hurriedly pulled the top over her head, wrapping the belt loops over her shoulders and around her waist. She fastened the pieces into place as she made her way from the bedroom to the main room, and called lowly, " _One second._ "

Mi Sun pressed her finger to a pad beside the door and whispered a phrase under her breath, waiting until the light flashed green to punch a code into the keypad. After a few seconds, an image appeared on the screen, and she could make out Taehyun's tired form in the hallway on the other side of the reinforced door. She verified the visit and cleared the system, permitting her to twist the lock and pull the door open.

Taehyun murmured a tired greeting as he entered the room, a coffee in each hand. Mi Sun took the one that he extended towards her greedily, ignoring his warning about the temperature. As she pressed the lid to her mouth, she could feel the steam rising from the small mouthpiece and sighed in relief, thankful for this small gesture. "Thank you," She groaned, taking a sip of the scalding liquid. She swallowed it without so much as a flinch, and Taehyun stared at her with a brow raised.

"Are you ready?" He asked, motioning to her uniform.

"One second." Mi Sun stepped past him and set her coffee carefully on the kitchen counter, lips pressed together in a thoughtful line. She quickly finished securing the belt around her waist and trudged back to her room. There were three loops on the belt along her left hip: gun, knife, phone. She placed the objects into their corresponding loops, making sure that her safety was on and each item was secure. With a final sigh, she pulled her boots over her socks and laced them quickly, thankful that she'd mastered the action.

In the top left drawer of her vanity, she had a small collection of masks; they weren't an uncommon fashion piece in South Korea due to the dust levels, so it wouldn't call any unwanted attention to her, but it would aid in masking her identity - to some degree - as she and Taehyun went about their agency business. She tired her hair back into a bun at the nape of her neck and pulled a black hat overtop, doing her best to mask however much hair she could without it looking strange. Looping the face mask over her ears, she adjusted it on her face and took a step back, making sure her uniform was up to code. Jacket. Holding a finger up as if remembering, she pulled the door of her closet aside and slipped a charcoal windbreaker from its hanger, dipping her arms in and shuffling it up over her shoulders.

"606." Taehyun's voice carried through the apartment, quiet but firm, and Mi Sun swallowed.

"I'm here," She responded, returning to the main room and slipping her coffee into her cold fingers. Any grogginess that might have normally possessed her at this hour was gone without a trace, replaced by the same unsettled nerves that overwhelmed her each time she was called before her father.

Taehyun gave her a once-over, affirming with his own eyes that everything was in order, and nodded. "Very well." Curtly, he turned away from her and started towards the door, only to come up short. His posture was hesitant, and without looking at her, he murmured, "Grab something to eat - something light."

"Keeping track of my meals now, are we?" Mi Sun teased, although the lightheartedness in her voice was uneasy. She knew the reason: should her meeting with her father - or the client for her assignment, for that matter - go wrong, throwing up a light breakfast would be slightly less miserable than if she'd eaten a proper meal. Still, she wouldn't argue; she grabbed a muffin from the tray on her counter and followed him into the hallway, pausing a moment to reset her security system.

Taehyun hesitated behind her, adjusting the cuff links of his jacket. His outfit was similar to hers, although not identical, but his overcoat was much more formal. Were it not for the boots adorning his feet, he'd have looked every bit the high-class businessman that he pretended to be. She supposed that, if nothing else, his cool demeanor and curt manners played the part well enough.

They walked in silence. The elevator felt stagnant despite falling steadily towards the lobby, and Mi Sun couldn't deny the tension hanging in the air. It was the first report she'd be giving her father on her current assignment, and he'd demanded that she do it in person. If she knew the man at all, it was because the pressure that such a meeting applied to her might inspire a misstep on her part, and that would justify any actions he might take to prevent her from fully completing the assignment. Had she not already faced him countless times before, it might have worked; unfortunately for him, the executive had begun to grossly underestimate his daughter's resolve. It was hard to fear the consequences of her actions when she'd already lost hope; why should it matter if he was the one to strike the final blow?

Mi Sun bit the inside of her cheek. Her resounding thoughts surrounding her father and the agency had grown incredibly dark as of late, and she had to remind herself that it wasn't the way an agent should be thinking. Her brain couldn't help but recollect the details of her night at the overlook, and how - though she had resolved not to be the one to do herself in - she wouldn't have minded if the universe sent her plummeting in its own way. What else was there? Agents met their inevitable end one way or another, so why should it matter if it was sooner rather than later?

"You're uncharacteristically quiet," Taehyun observed as they stepped outside of the apartment building, blue eyes pitched in her direction. Overall, Taehyun was as generically handsome as any other male agent that she worked with; objectively, his face was symmetrical and his figure was desirable, but nothing about him particularly set him aside from any other average man. His eyes, however, seemed eerily out of place on his relaxed, apathetic features. They were a slate-toned blue that seemed to express what his face could not, and Mi Sun liked to think that if he'd lived another life, they'd be wide and expressive in a way that greatly resembled Yoosung's eyes. Still, Taehyun persisted in pulling a robotic film over them - they held little life in them. "I'm surprised that you haven't run your report by me first, as you usually do."

Taehyung stepped ahead of her and pulled at the handle of a sleek, black car pulled by the curb, allowing her to slip into the backseat. He followed her quickly, and once the door was shut, the car immediately pulled back onto the road.

"I planned to," Mi Sun admitted, settling against the cool, black leather and leaning her head against the frame of the window. She gazed out at the cars passing them at dizzying speeds, occasionally bringing her coffee to her lips to take a scalding sip. "I didn't expect him to ask for a report so soon."

"Ah," Taehyun answered, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. She could feel his eyes on her, even if she would not meet them. "Do you feel prepared?"

"I suppose." She pressed her temple to the cool glass, relishing in the way it felt against her skin. "Not that it matters."

Taehyun hummed, refusing to express anything that suggested discontent with either her or her father. He often did that - refusing to pick a side - and in her strong-willed moments, Mi Sun found it incredibly frustrating. Now, however, she couldn't bring herself to care; it wasn't her place to ask him to stick his neck out and risk his own job - or life, for that matter - in order to make her feel a little better about herself. Even in the privacy of the car, their words and actions were not sacred. Mi Sun cautiously glanced at the driver, who met her eyes in the mirror as if to remind her of his prying ears.

"I notice that you haven't brought any materials with you."

Mi Sun sighed and shifted her jacket aside, revealing a small pouch attached to the right hip of her harness. From inside, she pulled a flash drive, waving it at Taehyun as if it were something of value. "You're losing your touch, Tae." The nickname was one that he hated, but Mi Sun used it anyway. Referring to him by his number in the agency was too informal for her to bear, and being so starved of any form of intimacy already, Mi Sun couldn't bother herself with such trivial rules. He would never admit to it aloud, but Mi Sun had the sneaking suspicion that he forgave her small trespass on his authority as a way of comforting her. Whatever the reason, he'd never fought her too hard on it so long as she didn't make the mistake in front of her father.

Taehyung was silent for another moment, and then he murmured, "How is the assignment going, then?"

She glanced at him, a brow raised. He'd never been one for small talk, and considering he would be at the meeting, she couldn't imagine why he'd want to know now. She decided to entertain him just this once. "Better than I first thought it would, truth be told. I managed to trace the case files to the victims' bank files using the national registry-"

"606," Taehyung hissed, flashing her an unapproving look, "You know that we advise you to take the proper precautions-"

She waved him off, continuing, "-and I found that many of the victims made anonymous donations to an organization before they disappeared. The donation statements had been deleted from the bank statements, of course, but I found a backdoor."

Her supervisor's former irritation appeared to melt into faint curiosity. "An organization?"

"An anonymous one." Mi Sun turned the flash drive over in her fingers, staring down at it apprehensively. "I haven't found anything about it, so I imagine it's not a public organization. I did find who the organization is registered to, though, and that's when I realized that I just have dumb luck."

Taehyung raised his brows, clearly waiting for an explanation. "Go on."

"I thought that I'd hit a wall then because of course, the one lead that I had on a suspect to thoroughly investigate, and she's dead." Mi Sun shrugged; although she said it calmly, the knot in her stomach twisted at the memory of how V had spoken of her, as well as the rest of the RFA…"Turns out she was also the founder of a well-known charity organization - the RFA."

Taehyung hummed in approval beside her, pressing his lips together. "Yes, I've heard of them. They hold the charity events annually, no? Many of our associates are familiar."

She nodded thoughtfully, finishing off her coffee. "Her cousin is actually my classmate. They were close, from what I understand. Our professor released course details on a group project that we're doing, so I hacked the school server and changed her lesson plan to make sure that we'd be in the same group. We're already acquaintances, so I figured I could get a decent understanding of her motives in order to figure out how it's all connected." She knew better than to call Yoosung her friend.

"And what of the RFA?"

"Ironically, her cousin is part of it. I managed to get an invitation to work with their organization as their party coordinator, which means exclusive contact with a team of people that knew her very well. I figure that if I can get close enough to them, they'll tell me all of what they know about her, and I can find a new lead."

Taehyung was staring at her. She opened her mouth to question him, but her supervisor shook his head at her, effectively silencing her. "I have to admit, I'm surprised that you've accomplished this much in just a few days. Only you would be able to secure such a principal position in a confidential organization." He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and hummed thoughtfully, adjusting his cuff links once more. It was a nervous habit, Mi Sun knew, and regretfully, she knew that only her father could inspire such anxiety in the man.

She let out a steady breath. "Hopefully the others share your opinion," She breathed, returning her eyes to the window. The city passed in an incessant blur, and Mi Sun suffered a small moment of infinite longing, wishing desperately that she could be one of the mindless people lining the sidewalks, preparing for their day. She'd be on her way to school at the moment, were it any other day, likely with a snack in hand to offer her blonde-haired friend in place of the breakfast he'd forgotten to make. She'd be the Min that Yoosung knew and cared for, and she'd be content.

With a small sigh, Mi Sun lurched forward and pressed a button along the cushioned doorframe, watching as the soundproof window between the driver and the back of the vehicle rolled to a close. His ears were open, but her rank still surpassed his, and there was nothing that the driver could do to stop her. Likely, he'd whisper in her father's ear that she'd engaged in a private conversation with her supervisor, but Mi Sun was confident that she could use the time remaining in their drive to theorize a convincing excuse.

Taehyung looked at her inquisitively, his eyes shining in pensive thought.

"I think I may need reconditioning," Mi Sun said softly, deciding to seal her fate. She couldn't meet his eyes. She hadn't been reconditioned since she was seventeen, when her father was still abroad and she'd suffered a very serious relapse in her trauma after a particularly daunting assignment. It had been unwilling then, but in the end, better for her career. There had been another time, a year after joining the agency formally. Her father knew of neither of these events.

For a single, fleeting moment, something thoughtful flashed across Taehyung's face. He did not take her sentiments lightly; Mi Sun, although a dutiful agent, had never expressed a shred of good favor regarding the organization. For her to willingly submit to reconditioning - a painful, long, and stressful process, no less - must have meant something to him.

"Mi Sun." He did not use her name often, as it extended a bridge of familiarity with her that he was unwilling to cross, but there were occasional moments where Taehyung became something short of a caretaker. He was thirty-five, so although she could not see him as any form of replacement father figure or proper caretaker, there were slips in his cool exterior that allowed her to see the fretful boy underneath, and he possessed a brotherly quality that inspired Mi Sun to dislike him a little less than her other supervisors.

"I know." Her voice held no emotion in it. She leaned her temple against the cool glass pane and fiddled with her fingers in her lap, pulling a loose strap from her belt out and twisting it back and forth.

His line of questioning began. "Are you considering betraying the agency?"

"No." _That's not it._

"Are you abandoning the assignment?"

"No." She closed her eyes. That denial felt a little acrider on her tongue. She'd have liked to…desperately. For just a second, Yoosung and Seven's smiling faces flashed across her eyelids.

Taehyung was quiet beside her, and then he asked a little more softly, "Are the dreams happening again?"

She opened her eyes just enough to glance at him, her eyes sullen and lifeless. "They never stopped. That's not it."

"Then what?" His voice was even - almost robotic - but she didn't miss the faint traces of desperation wavering underneath. Taehyung played his part very well, but Mi Sun knew that he hoped for her success so that she might earn a transfer and escape her father, even if he wouldn't admit it.

She lifted a slender hand from her lap and extended her index finger, poking herself in the center of her forehead. It was a subtle motion, but Taehyung understood exactly what she meant.

"What sort of thoughts?"

"Does it matter if I fail?" The words escaped her throat before she could stop them, and Mi Sun swallowed thickly at the rancorous resolve her voice was riddled with. Taehyung shot her a pointed look, his clouded expression beckoning her to continue. She dropped her gaze to her hands and reproached, "We're not supposed to think about the future, right? We aren't supposed to think about things like future plans, or families, or friends, or…" She trailed off, doing her best to find her voice despite the discourse burning brilliantly inside her skull, "What if I…What if I can't even think about right now? Does it matter anymore?"

Taehyung's frown was prominent. "I'm not following."

"I-" Mi Sun choked on the syllable and stopped for a moment, taking a few breaths to even her pulse. She couldn't act like this in front of him, but it was more for his sake than her own. The more he knew of the inner turmoil she'd been carrying, the more responsible he'd be for it. When she spoke again, the uncertainty in her tone had been replaced by something bitter and aggrieved. "He's going to kill me one way or another. You and I both know that this assignment is a trap."

"Mi Su-"

"So I figure, if I fail this assignment, does it really matter if I'm going to die one way or another anyway?" She used the same index finger to trace an abstract pattern into the fog on the window, honey eyes trailing over the lines. "I don't understand what I'm working towards. A transfer? Is that not setting a goal for myself - for my future? That's not supposed to be allowed. So if I have no vision for my future, I've repressed my past, and the present is killing me, what am I holding on for?"

Although she wasn't looking at him, she felt his hand wrap tightly around her wrist; it wasn't meant to be comforting, but it wasn't a threat, either. Instead, he held her as if he were scared she'd blow away. He didn't seem to be taking the weight of her words well. The faint desperation had returned to Taehyung's voice. "Are you…telling me that you wish to die?"

A dry, bitter laugh escaped her throat. There was nothing pleasant about the sound of it. "I'm not going to kill myself, if that's what you're asking."

His grip on her relaxed, and when she glanced at him, Mi Sun could see that some of the tension in his posture had faded, as well. "You're just accepting that it may happen," He said, and it wasn't a question. "You want it, even."

"More or less." She shifted her arm out of his grasp, lowering her hand from the window to rub gentle circles on the fabric of her jacket. He hadn't harmed her, but after the things she'd endured, Mi Sun was always sensitive to other people touching her. Their touch felt foreign, almost painful…as if even a shred of human intimacy might set her aflame. Suddenly, she recalled a flash of red curls, a pair of calculated, amber eyes with hints of sympathy pooling in their depths, and the feeling of hands around her wrists, attempting to pin her out of desperation…

She swallowed. She couldn't think about that now. As if she'd flipped a switch, Mi Sun withdrew the more sentimental pieces of herself and allowed the well-trained agent inside of her to take over. "I apologize if this is inconvenient," She said coolly, glancing at her supervisor. "Agents aren't supposed to worry about things like this. Why should I care if I have a purpose for living, right?" Although she meant them to sound apathetic, there was a spiteful lilt to her voice that she was sure Taehyung picked up on.

He gazed at her for what felt like minutes, cerulean eyes hard, determined, and clouded with indecision. He parted his lips to reply and then closed them, and for the first time in a while, Mi Sun thought that perhaps her supervisor was unsure of what course of action to take.

The car came to a stop and both of them held their breaths, gazing out the window at the familiar building. It was made of tinted glass and concrete, and looked every bit the prison that Mi Sun felt it to be. To any passerby, it might have seemed like any other corporate building, but they knew better. The tinted glass was almost mirror-like during the day and prevented any prying eyes from seeing what was going on inside. There were two sets of doors at the front of the building, with a black awning patched expertly overhead, and a guard posted on either side. Most of the building's decorations were black, but the golden detail work gave it flair and lessened its imposing presence.

The driver left the car, and as Taehyung watched him come around the hood of the vehicle, he gazed at her from the corner of his eye. "I will not lie and propose that your experience in the agency has been normal. Your father has made sure of that." He spoke quietly, as if he feared any prying ears might hear his words. "But you are one of our strongest, and while I regret that I cannot make this any better for you, you must endure it. You live because you have to. Just because you are not allowed to carry hopes for the future does not mean that it will not change."

The driver was very close to Taehyung's door now, and the older man stiffened. As his hand reached for the handle, Taehyung murmured under his breath, "We may be nameless, traceless, and leave no marks on the world, but we are still human, Mi Sun." He met her eyes, and his indecision melted away. "So long as you complete your assignments and keep your head low, this conversation may remain between us. I…" His jaw clenched, and he turned towards the door, ready to step out onto the sidewalk. "I will not recondition you for being human."

With that, the door opened, and Taehyung slipped from the leather seat with the grace and poise of the agent she knew him to be. His words rang in her ears, vibrating around her head and threatening to suffocate any wandering thoughts. It was closest he'd ever come to comforting her, and while the action felt foreign from him, Mi Sun felt as though she could cry of relief.

__________________________________________

Her father's office was large and open, with a window wall of reinforced glass that allowed him to view the city. The view was far more vast than the one from her apartment, as his office was on one of the higher floors of the corporate building, and staring too long at the winding streets below always seemed to make Mi Sun dizzy. She wasn't afraid of heights, per se, but sharing a room with the man always inspired a fear in her that held no logic or reason. Even the smallest threats seemed significant.

He cleared his throat, demanding her attention, and Mi Sun raised her gaze to find a matching pair; for all intents and purposes, she was a carbon copy of her mother, but her father's caramel eyes had won dominance over her mother's softer, grey one in the gene pool. Despite being identical, the way that the father and daughter carried the feature was vastly different. She hated his eyes.

"I trust that you've read the assignment file," He began, leaning forward on his desk and lacing his fingers together underneath his chin. He wore a pressed, three-piece suit of the highest quality, and an expensive watch hung snugly from his broad wrist. His hair was cropped short but styled nonetheless, and swept to the side without a single piece out of place. His face was clean-shaven. His appearance was nearly as harsh as his demeanor - Mi Sun's father was nothing but sharp edges.

"Yes, sir." Her voice was small but steady. After acknowledging his gaze, she let her eyes fall from his and found interest in the things on his desk, knowing that maintaining eye contact for too long would only serve to anger him. "Our client is Quon Financial."

He made a sound - somewhat of a hum, although the tune was flat and cold - and spread a few papers across his desktop, eyeing them purposefully. "Chairman Toh is an acquaintance of mine," He expressed, sparing her a glance before returning to the paperwork, "You will not handle this poorly." It was not a request.

"Yes, sir." Her hands fumbled over one another anxiously, and Mi Sun felt the cool surface of the flash drive against the leg of her trousers. She'd given her report to her father first thing this morning in the conference room, where he, Taehyung, and four other supervisors had born witness to her progress. Her father, much to her surprise, seemed fond of her chosen route; choosing to grow close to the RFA for her own gain, only to abandon them when her assignment was completed, was something he hadn't expected of her. Furthermore, her father seemed to realize how torturous it was for her, and that only inspired him to remain agreeable. By the end of the presentation, his only comments had been to remember her place and remain anonymous. He was not sparing with his reminders about what happened to those who knew too much, and Mi Sun couldn't help but picture Yoosung and Seven. Seven was onto her, she remembered, and she prayed that he would heed her advice and stop asking questions…

The door opened. Mi Sun watched as her father stood and plastered a gracious smile across his lips - a mask, she knew from experience - as he bounded forward to take the man's hand. He shook it firmly and retraced his arm, taking a moment to make sure that his cuffs were still properly pressed. The man was shorter than him and older, likely in his mid-fifties, with a suit that likely rivaled the cost of her father's. His hair was black and styled with far too much gel, and from her position, Mi Sun could see a spot on the back of his head where it had begun to thin. He'd done his best to cover it with the style, but her acute observation skills were not fooled.

When he turned to her, she did her best not to grimace. His smile was lazy and arrogant, and the way his chocolate eyes fell on her made her feel like a cornered animal. She was unsure what the emotion burning brightly in them was, but she knew that she did not like it.

"It is a pleasure to see you, Director." The man's voice was deep and refined, but she did not like the sound of it. He glanced between her and her father, and then his smile settled into something more of a smirk. "This must be Areum." Areum. Bitterly, she recalled that this was the name her father had chosen for the assignment.

She followed her father's lead and her lips tilted upwards, acknowledging the man with a smile. "You must be Chairman Toh," She said pleasantly, burying every ounce of disgust and bitter shame twisting in her gut, "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir." She stood from her seat and approached, reaching out to take his extended arm. His hand was rough against her skin as she closed both of hers around it - an acknowledgment of his status - and did her best not to press the tips of her calloused fingers against him. He held her hand for just a second too long, and she watched as the whisper of her touch traveled up his arm and settled in a brilliant resolution - a smirk on his lips.

"Yes, I see that your name is fitting," He mused, his eyes dancing between her and her father, "She is a beauty, Director."

The knife in her stomach twisted. The corner of her lips twitched, but Mi Sun's forced smile did not falter. "You flatter me, Chairman Toh."

Though his expression was taught and reserved, amusement swam in her father's eyes. "Yes, she is," He said, shifting his gaze towards her. She knew that look all too well, and suddenly, Mi Sun felt as though the floor had opened beneath her feet. She could remember the years of etiquette classes, the endless gowns, and dresses, the hushed words, and notions of advice from older female agents. She could remember the first kiss of unwelcomed lips on her neck, or the feeling of unfamiliar hands grazing the small of her back, pushing her forward, farther…

Mi Sun's features were delicate, and despite the hard-trained lethality lurking beneath her soft smiles and gentle touch, she was no less a picture of a woman than any other high-class daughter of the country's elite. To her father, who had long imposed that she was nothing more than a weapon to him, she was a prized piece of meat dangled on a string, and through her interactions and accomplishments, he could build the world that he wished for; he would never cross that barrier himself, but the man held no qualms about allowing those around him to dance along the line. Of course, he'd never allowed it to go too far; a prized toy was not meant to be damaged, and he had an image to uphold - she would never be that kind of agent.

Her purity was something he had control over, and though he was content to dangle her in front of the wolves, he would not throw her to them. In some sick, twisted way, that assurance had always made her feel a little better; he was her father, and she hated him, but the small, scared child buried deep within her desperately wished for his protection, however sick his methods or motivations might be. He traumatized her, abused her, and someday, he might even kill her…but there were some things that even a man such as he found infuriating, and a violation of her person in such a context was among them.

Still, his unspoken protection would not ease the anxiety and disgust bubbling in the back of her throat. The Chairman had only touched her hand, but there was a hunger in his eyes as he looked at her that made her wish to return to the comfort of her apartment, to activate the security system and run the bath with the hottest water she could stand, to hold her head underwater as the scalding heat washed away this feeling-

"Areum." Her father's voice was a command, and Mi Sun immediately fixed her posture and found his gaze. He stared at her with dull disinterest. "You may excuse yourself to get ready. Your attendants will be waiting." She knew that by _attendants_ , he meant the cosmetic team; they worked for the agency, but their entire purpose was superficial. Agents required all sorts of disguises for their assignments, so having a team of confidential, highly-skilled cosmetic artists on retainer was convenient and dependable. She nodded, and her father turned to the Chairman, "Do you have a preference on her look?"

"It is a shame to cover this up," The chairman cooed, raising his hand to her face and brushing his fingers over her bangs. His hand fell, and he grasped a piece of her ponytail, twisting the hair between his thumb and forefinger. "Hmm…make her a fierce beauty. I'd like my date to stand out among those dreadfully plastic women."

"Very well." Her father beckoned his finger away from him, and with quiet, fearful understanding, Mi Sun excused herself from the room.

With the door to his office falling shut behind her, she finally released the breath of relief that she'd been sitting on, as if the anxiety lingering in the room could no longer weigh on her shoulders. There were three attendants waiting a few feet away, arms clasped in front of them in silent anticipation for their assignment. She was sure that her father had briefed them, so speaking on her end would be unnecessary, but that did little to diminish her disappointment. The three of them were nearly identical, with cropped chocolate hair, soft grey eyes, and blank expressions; their suits were of the same fabric and color, with fitted pencil skirts and modest kitten heels.

Without a word, one of the attendants took her hand and guided her down the hallway towards the elevator. Their office was two floors down, in a room with no windows and only one door. It looked exactly as she remembered it, and as Mi Sun settled into the black leather barstool positioned in front of the vanity, she could feel her grip on the situation beginning to slip away.

The feeling of their hands in her hair was almost therapeutic, and while it could not calm her nerves entirely, it was enough of a distraction for her to slip into something between repetitive lapses of attention and full disassociation. The leather was cool as it kissed her skin, and as time continued to pass arbitrarily overhead, her skin seemed to meld with it until she felt rooted in place. The fingers in her hair pulled pieces over one another and tucked them elsewhere, until all of her brunette locks had been wrapped into two long, dense braids and wrapped securely around her head. They pinned her bangs back, and Mi Sun brought her golden eyes to the mirror ahead, too numbed by their actions to start at her appearance.

She hadn't seen her entire face in some time, and she couldn't deny how foreign the sight of it was. It was heart-shaped with a round, soft chin, and her features were evenly spaced and symmetrical. Though her eyes were her father's color, they were wide and imposed a look of innocence as her mother's had. For the most part, she looked just like her mother; perhaps this was the reason her father rarely looked at her. Despite his cool exterior, she had never missed those times in her youth when she'd caught him staring, pained, as she continued to exist in the space he'd shared with the woman he'd loved.

They pulled a cap over her head, and seconds later, she felt the familiar tug of a wig as they clipped it into her hair and pulled it tightly, covering the braids woven around her scalp. They adjusted the bangs - they were wispier than her natural ones and made the hairstyle look like her actual hair - and prepped heated tools. As those familiar hands began to create loose curls - coiling them, brushing them out, fixing the ends, hairspray, repeat - the other sets began to prod at her face with products she didn't know the names of, altering her features and turning her into someone that reflected the sharp edges cutting up inside of her.

Mi Sun rarely wore makeup. She wasn't unfamiliar with it, as certain jobs and tasks required a functional every-day look that appeared as though she'd put some effort in, but her skill didn't extend far beyond that. She hated the way it felt on her face, and selfishly - although she would not admit it - hated how it covered the face that looked so much like her mother's. It turned her into someone she didn't recognize.

Perhaps, with the discomfort lingering over this assignment, becoming someone else for the night might be better.

"Here," One of them said, angling her chin back and pressing their fingertips into her cheekbones. A colored lens sat across the tip of their middle finger, and obliging them without a word of discontent, Mi Sun spread her eyes wide and looked straight ahead. They placed the contacts in and gave her a few moments to blink and adjust, offering solution to ease any discomfort. Upon gazing at her reflection, she realized that her honey irises had been replaced by a soft, icy shade of green. The lens was large enough that hints of her natural eyes didn't peek through, and she imagined that was by design.

They filled in her eyebrows and doused her eyelids in soft shades of champagne, chocolate, and honey, buffing the colors out into the shape of a wing that cut sharply across her outer eye. The lashes that they placed along her eyelid were natural-looking and as wispy as the bangs on the wig; they made her eyes appear larger, and despite her sharp appearance, the look of her eyes in this light was alluring and innocent. The blush on her cheeks was a subtle, rosy tint, as if she'd been caught unaware by something that flustered her. The most prominent piece of the look they spread across her lips, tinting them a vibrant shade of scarlet rouge.

When at last, they settled back to admire their work, Mi Sun no longer knew the agent staring back at her.

Her sleek, black bob - volumized by loose, effortless curls - accentuated the soft shape of her face and called attention to her lithe-but-toned shoulders, where they were delicately laying a simple, white-gold band with diamond accents. The matching set found the forgotten holes in her ears, and she did her best not to wince as they re-poked the holes, protesting against her red flesh. Her face was fair and flushed, and though her lips and cat-eye were prominent, the colors blended into the rest of her skin appeared somehow natural.

She looked beautiful, and she despised it.

"Your dress is over here, miss." One of them stepped back, giving her enough room to stand from the chair. She obliged, doing her best to ignore the stiff, needle-like ripples under her skin, and walked towards the table they had laid her outfit on. Her father had chosen it, so she'd prepared herself for something elegant but suggestive, and she was - unfortunately - not disappointed.

The dress was heavy, but the shape seemed overall delicate. As they stripped her of her clothes and pulled the fabric over her skin, instructing her to hold her breath, she took the chance to admire the shape of it in the mirrors lining the walls. It was the same shade of scarlet rouge as her lips, although the fabric seemed more rich and slightly darker against her skin. The bodice was corset-like and topped with a sweetheart neckline; from the sides of the neckline sprouted two billowing sleeves, and though the bodice was off-the-shoulder, the sleeves rested lazily around her biceps and came to a stop just over her elbows. At the bottom of the bodice, just a few inches beneath her breasts, the corset dipped hazardously inward in the same route as the silk belt placed delicately overtop. At the front of the belt was a diamond-encrusted piece that matched her earrings. _How thorough_. From there, the skirt erupted and spread out, falling in expensive, silk pleats of fabric that gave the illusion of a skirt frame underneath. There was a slit running up the right side of it, and if she stood correctly, her bare leg was exposed up to the crest of her hip.

She turned, and she could see where the edge of the neckline turned to hints of red lace and trailed down in a V formation, baring the majority of her spine. It was revealing, but the dress held such simple elegance to it that she was sure even the most conservative suitors wouldn't bat an eye. She was impressed at her father's ability to pull something together in such a way, but a well-dressed piece of meat was still just that, and the bitter taste wouldn't leave her tongue at the sight of her reflection.

"I'll inform the Director that you're ready." The voice was behind her, but Mi Sun didn't look.

"Yes," She said, her voice sounding far away.

__________________________________________

The banquet hall was extravagant and drenched in ivory and gold, and had the terms of her assignment not been weighing heavily as tension in the set lines of her jaw, Mi Sun might have believed she'd crossed the threshold into silk-laden heaven. Kim Life Insurance owned a large plaza of skyscrapers in the center of the city, and their main office was renowned for its extensive event hall; they often hosted business events here, and so it came as no surprise to Mi Sun, her father, or the Chairman when yet another invitation had been extended in Toh's direction. While Kim Life Insurance and Quon Financial were on rather unfortunate terms as business rivals, the two companies did all they could to keep up appearances in the public eye.

Behind the scenes was another matter. While Mi Sun held no love or warmth for Chairman Toh, she had to commend the man's efforts in picking up the pieces of the company left behind by the former Chairman, who'd been relieved of his position the prior year due to a series of embezzlement scandals becoming public knowledge. After his abrupt departure, Chairman Toh had been promoted and tasked with rebuilding the failing company. Part of his recovery plan had involved extending Quon Financials' dealings into life insurance, which succeeded in raising the company's stock dramatically, but he was encroaching on Kim Life Insurance's territory, and so a bitter feud formed between the companies. Although Quon Financial presently had more resources at their disposal, Kim Life Insurance possessed one thing that Chairman Toh could not ignore.

According to rumors, Kim Life Insurance had acquired files on Quon Financials' former Chairman's other exploits, and were using them as leverage to keep Quon Financial from monopolizing the market. Chairman Toh understood the severity of this threat, and so rather than bending to the will of his rival, he'd reached out to her father for help.

Mi Sun's task was simple: attend the banquet as Chairman Toh's date and once an opportunity arose, find her way to the server room and retrieve the files, as well as prod for any useful information on Kim Life Insurance that Toh could use.

There was a hand at her back, and Mi Sun did her best not to flinch away from the touch. She inclined her head, feeling the soft curls of her bob brush against her exposed collarbones. Chairman Toh greeted her with a pleased smirk, hungry eyes trailing over the fabric wrapped around her body, as if his lingering gaze might discover something previously unseen.

"They did a good job with you, dear," He said for what felt like the hundredth time, urging her forward with pressure from his fingers. "Come now, our seats are over here."

The nature of the banquet was an auction, and so the vast majority of the hall was covered in round tables draped in expensive cloth, with six seats positioned around them. Atop the tables were placeholders - as the seats were bought and assigned - and high-quality plate sets, as well as a small collection of gas-lit candles, flowers, and stacks of auction cards for claiming items. At the front of the hall, the tables gave way to empty space and a long, thin stage stretched across the wall. From the walls on all sides, wispy white cloths were draped and tucked expertly in a cushioned design, with ropes of soft, golden light running up the length of the wall behind. The same cloths had been tapered on the ceiling, conforming in the center to call attention to the chandelier overhead. It was beautiful scenery, Mi Sun acknowledged, but the overwhelming feeling in the air was nothing she enjoyed. High-society businessmen surrounded her, and although she possessed an expert understanding of etiquette and enough business knowledge to keep up with them, she desperately wished to be somewhere else. She wondered how different the room would feel if she were in it alone.

Mi Sun took the seat offered to her, plastering an appreciative smile on her lips as the Chairman fell into his seat beside her. The chair on her right - as well as the one beside that - were empty, but two others sat across from her at the table: a middle-aged, well-groomed man with a pleasant smile and eyes that sparkled with something she might liken to childish joy, as well as an older woman who, despite her age, carried the beauty and grace of many of the younger dates present in the hall. Her smile was pleasant as well, but as Mi Sun observed her laughing with the man beside her, she couldn't help but notice how devoid her eyes seemed of emotion.

It wasn't rocket science. _Gold-digger_ , Mi Sun thought with disinterest, quirking a brow at the woman's display. She laughed at the man's jokes as if it were her civic duty, and could hardly go seconds without placing a hand on his shoulder or arm. The man seemed oblivious to this possibility, and Mi Sun suspected that the childlike joy she'd seen sparkling in his eyes was because he thought the attention was genuine. She almost felt bad for him.

"Ah, Chairman Toh, it's been some time. Lovely to see you again," The man said from across the table, finally breaking his attention from the woman beside him. "I trust you've been well?"

Chairman Toh came to life beside her. "It is hard to be unwell in such lovely company," He retorted, giving her a smile that made her chest feel uncomfortably tight. He shifted his eyes back to the man, adding, "How have you been? I see you've found lovely company as well, Chairman Han."

Chairman Han. Mi Sun's hands froze in her lap, and for a moment, she felt as though the banquet hall had become an incredibly small space. _No, no, no_. The men continued talking, but their words fell on deaf ears; her heart thundered in her ears, and try as she might to breathe through it and calm herself, she could feel her stomach rippling with anxiety. _Not here, not right now…_

"Will your son be joining us today?" The conversation continued despite the war raging in her head, and Mi Sun could feel goosebumps prickling up her arms with each advancement.

"Yes, he should be-" Chairman Han beamed at someone behind her, and time seemed to stop. "Ah, there he is. Chairman Toh, this is Jumin, the Director of C&R."

There was a breeze to her right as someone tall took the seat, and Mi Sun didn't have to look up to feel the gaze boring down on her. "Nice to meet you," The man said pleasantly, extending a hand in front of her to shake Chairman Toh's. The chair creaked underneath him as he settled into it. "Chairman Toh, it is a pleasure. And this is…?"

Her lips were frozen in a pensive line. "Areum," Her date breathed beside her, and she heard a few murmurs as the other three at the table took note of the name. Chairman Han dipped his head in acknowledgment, a friendly smile lining his lips, and the woman beside him - _Glam Choi_ , she recalled from the snippets of conversation that had reached her ears during her small moment of quiet consternation.

"Nice to meet you, Areum." Jumin finally spoke to her, and it was only then that she managed to pry her hazy eyes from the table and look at him.

His suit was a grey-toned shade of navy blue, and though she could not feel the fabric, the faint glimmer of it under the sparkling lights above alluded to the presence of silk along the lining. Underneath his coat sat a vest of the same hue - or, perhaps slightly more grey, she couldn't tell - atop a pleated, white dress shirt. His tie was a deep, rich blue, pinned down with a sterling tie clip just above the dip of his vest. Rather than the typical, pressed style, the collar of his shirt sat up above the neckline of his tie and curved downwards only at the very front, making his long neck appear somehow more angular and refined. The cuffs of his shirt extended beyond the end of his jacket sleeves, and where she expected skin, she saw satin, white gloves that covered his hands entirely. A handkerchief of the same color and fabric sat expertly-folded in his suit pocket.

As he gazed at her, he straightened the cuff of his shirt with his gloves drawn to his chest. His hair was tousled in a way that seemed intentional, and small pieces fell, side-swept, across his silver eyes. Were she not so perturbed about this turn of events, she might have thought him handsome.

The ever-obedient agent seized control. "The pleasure is mine, Director Han," She mused, dipping her head and offering him a hand. When he took it, she brought her other hand around to clasp it in gentle acknowledgment of his status, before allowing hers to fall delicately back into her lap.

His gaze lingered on her. In this light, she could see hints of other colors bleeding into his irises; faint traces of lilac and honey, budding together in a speckle across the span of the overwhelming greys, like a sea of stars against the cosmos. In any other interaction, Mi Sun would have been mesmerized by them, but there was a hardness residing in his gaze that made her uneasy. His posture was polite but stiff, and although he wore a smile, it did not reach his eyes.

_Please do not look at me too long_ , She thought, averting her eyes from his. Although her face would look different without so much makeup on and her eyes and hair would change color by the time they met tomorrow, she didn't want to risk him familiarizing himself with the shape of her face. After all, her meeting with the RFA was only a day away, and should he recognize her…

Mi Sun swallowed thickly, forcing her attention onto Chairman Toh. She would have to avoid Jumin as much as possible, and while she needed to sell her role, she would do her best to leave as little of an impression on him as possible. Mi Sun acted differently while on her assignments, and the version of her that he'd encounter tomorrow would be the version of her that played the role of 'Min'. Then, she could let go of her anxiety and speak to him as a normal person, with normal thoughts and feelings, and he might not gaze at her with this much reproach.

Part of her wondered why he seemed to despise her already.

The conversation continued, with Chairman Toh and Chairman Han delving into past deals and recounting their great accomplishments. Mi Sun remained quiet, only speaking when directly spoken to, but offered her support in the form of quiet sounds of acknowledgment. Glam Choi was also quiet, but unlike Mi Sun, made a show of laughing at her date's jokes or applauding him with each tale of his success. Jumin, she noted, seemed to be playing a part just as much as she was. He clearly seemed discontent with being at the banquet but did his part to engage Chairman Toh with discussions of business.

After some time observing him, Mi Sun's brain began to notice the patterns in his behavior. He seemed content to ignore the women at the table almost entirely, but it was something that stretched far deeper than any offensive notions on his part. Rather, Mi Sun noticed the faint traces of a grimace on his lips each time Glam Choi spoke, or how, during her ostentatious shows of affection towards his father, Jumin averted his eyes without fail each time. Any normal observer might have chalked his actions up to a child's discomfort at their parent's private lives, but Mi Sun knew better. His discomfort was for the woman.

Dinner came, and Mi Sun was thankful to have something to pour her attention into. Mindful of her manners, she delicately picked at the food on her plate and kept a slow pace despite the hunger gnawing angrily at her insides. She hadn't eaten since she'd seen Taehyung, she realized, and had their watchful eyes not been on her, she might have devoured the entire plate. The food was expensive and delectable, and each bite brought a burst of flavor that spread divinely across her tongue. For the first time that day, she felt that she might be enjoying herself.

Chairman Toh offered her a glass of wine, and while she accepted it out of consideration, Mi Sun had no intention of drinking it. Rather, she brought the glass to her lips and gave the appearance of taking a sip, only to set it back down and return to her food as if nothing was amiss. She'd never been one for drinking; drinks and drugs alike dulled the senses, and while the pitiful escapist in her might have loved to indulge, she could never bring herself to do it. She'd suffered far too many surprise intrusions at the hands of her father's operatives, and she could never quite shake the feeling that a threat was looming, even in the comfort of her own home. Drinks were meant to be enjoyed while winding down, so how could she indulge in something while subconsciously denying the nature of it?

After enough dutiful listening and acknowledgment, the courses were finally cleared from the table, and in their absence, Mi Sun was finally given a small moment to breathe. Chairman Han expressed interest in viewing the auction items before the event, with his date gleefully offering her company, and he extended them the invitation. Jumin almost immediately declined, clearly more interested in the dessert he was picking at. Chairman Toh, however, seemed delighted by the idea.

"Ah, yes, let us do that." Toh stood from his chair and pushed it in gently, his polished hands resting on the back of it. He shifted his thumb across the padding and turned to her, his eyes sparkling in the dim, glittering lights overhead. "I'll be back, darling."

Chairman Han raised a brow inquisitively. "You don't wish to bring Areum with us?"

Toh's smile was brilliant but tight, and Mi Sun could see the business-oriented gears inside of his head turning industriously. "I might find something gift-worthy at the auction," He explained, making a show of jutting his head in her direction as if asking Chairman Han not to reveal his secret, "I would hate to ruin the surprise." He turned then, setting his gaze on Jumin. "I am certain that I am leaving her in good company."

Jumin did not smile in reply but dipped his head in acknowledgment. Satisfied, both of the chairmen turned on their heels and started towards the stage, where a long row of tables had been elegantly positioned in an l-shape to allow guests to view the items up for auction. Mi Sun couldn't make out much of what was on the table from this distance, but she hardly concerned herself with it. Nothing on that table was of value to her, and if things fell according to her plans, she wouldn't be present for the auction anyway.

As Chairman Toh's head disappeared into the crowd, some of the uptight tension worn like a knot around her stomach eased, and Mi Sun felt her shoulders relax the slightest amount. Her anxiety about being alone with Jumin hadn't disappeared, but she chose to believe that her disguise and change in demeanor would be enough to keep him from recognizing her when they inevitably met again. Should she give in to the spiraling thoughts of 'what-ifs' and worst-case scenarios, her levelheadedness would surely crack, and her assignment might be at stake. She had to focus right now; anxiety about the outcome was not a luxury that she could afford.

Jumin was surveying her with steady calm. "You are calmer now that Chairman Toh is gone." It was a simple statement - almost a challenge.

Mi Sun tilted her head to the side and hesitated, her hands laid atop one another in her lap. She considered biting back with the same tone - apathetic but bordering on the accusation - but after some consideration, she wondered what good that might do. She would never don this disguise in front of him again, and although she couldn't afford to sit and speak with the Chairman's son for long, what harm would voicing some of her thoughts do? Perhaps it was that steel-trap gaze he fixed her in…but as long as she didn't reveal anything sensitive, what could be wrong with playing her part on her own terms?

"He can be tiring and uncomfortable," She replied honestly, feeling the cool pressure of the chair against her exposed back.

Jumin's apathetic expression faltered for a moment, and his lips melded into a curved frown. It seemed as though he hadn't been expecting her honesty. "I imagine that your efforts are being fairly compensated." His voice was biting, and as he brought his wine glass to his lips and painted them ruby red, she could see the same traces of withheld disgust in his expression that he'd given her shades of earlier in the night. It was the same feeling she possessed when gazing at Glam Choi - she could only imagine how she seemed to him.

"I can assure you, Director Han," Mi Sun murmured tiredly, sweeping a piece of her curled, raven-colored locks from her face and shifting her eyes to the side. "I have no intention of sharing his company after tonight."

His glass hesitated in his fingers, poised mere inches away from his mouth. He observed her over the rim of it, violet-toned eyes brewing with something she didn't recognize. After a few seconds of silence, his expression softened an almost indistinguishable amount. "I see." A ginger sip, and then, "Why tonight, then?"

"I had no choice."

"Of course you have a choice." Jumin scoffed, but after the harsh sound hit the air, he seemed almost guilty about how it had come out. Mi Sun didn't know the man beyond her short introduction to him, but she could see the conflict raging inside of him; her sentiments seemed to contradict the impression he'd made of her, and he didn't appear to know what to do with this new information.

"It's never that simple." Her smile was almost despairing, and Mi Sun tore her attention from him to gaze over at the auction table, where the Chairmen were talking adamantly about an item she couldn't see. This moment felt like an echo of something she couldn't quite touch, and while Mi Sun reached with desperate hands to cling to this normalcy, she knew that it would not last; the clock would continue to shift and time would roll forward, and this fleeting time-space where she was just an ambiguous woman speaking with an ambiguous man, with nothing but glittering lights falling like stars around them and faint strings singing over the soft murmurs of conversation in the room, would disappear just like everything else. But for now, for this calm, transient moment, she could speak to her feelings - however obscurely she had to recount them - without consequence, and that realization alone was enough to make her eyes glisten in ways the stringed lights had not.

"I'm afraid that I do not understand." Jumin set his glass down and weaved his fingers together in his lap, leaning back in his chair to look at her. The few sections of hair that hadn't been expertly brushed back fell in wisps over his right eye, but the look was hardly tousled or unkempt. "Why would you agree to accompany a man that you do not appear to like if you are getting nothing out of it?"

Mi Sun did her best not to wince at how direct the question was. "Because I was told to."

"By whom?"

"My father."

Something in the subtle curve of his lips shifted, and for the first time since their conversation had begun, Jumin seemed to understand. Mi Sun supposed he should, to some degree; while she didn't know the inner workings of C&R International or the relationship between the heir and his father, she imagined there was some shade of similarity to her circumstances. Even the Director of such a company was victim to the whims of the Chairman, and until Jumin assimilated as the head of the company, he would not escape that hold that his father had on him. In a way that left a bitter taste in her mouth, she almost felt a kinship with the man beside her. It was a sentiment she'd never be able to thank him for, but that small flicker of understanding meant more to her than she could express with tight lips and averted gazes.

"What is it that Chairman Toh wants with you, Areum?" It appeared as though she'd piqued the corporate heir's curiosity with her obscurity, and he watched her lips part in hesitation with the muted zeal of a child.

"To play a part."

"And what part would that be?" His lips were tinted red with wine again. She didn't know the man well enough to know his quirks, but from the faint traces of a smile on his lips and the dull haze that had fallen over his violet-tinted, stormy eyes, she'd have wagered he was slightly tipsy. How well he managed to maintain his composure was almost admirable.

"The same part as everyone else," She replied evenly, finally bringing her eyes back to his and leaning forward against the table, her elbows coming a few inches short of resting on its surface. Her fingers tapped breathlessly against the delicate skin just below the curve of her jaw, and as she drew in a breath riddled with resignation, she felt the words pouring from her lips before she could stop them, "For men like Chairman Toh and your father - and you as well, Mr. Han - this world is something to be seized and conquered. You have the wealth and resources of the world in the palm of your hand. For anyone else, they can only hope to see a fraction of that world you live in, by whatever means necessary. Banquets like these are a feeding ground for the ambitious."

The Director almost appeared offended at her statement. "You make many assumptions about how I view the world. You would loop me in with the rest of them?" His gaze fell behind her, and through the heat of it, Mi Sun could only imagine that he'd located the face of someone who possessed the same ambitions she'd mentioned.

"No, Mr. Han." Mi Sun smiled softly and shook her head. "I only meant that you live in a world far different than mine. The rest of us are simply background noise." As her words fell like a sigh from her lips, she became overwhelmingly aware of a dull twinge resounding inside of her ribcage, wrapping its cold, biting tendrils around her heart. Her words rang far truer in her mind than her companion might realize, and incredulously, Mi Sun wondered why it was that she felt able to speak her mind so freely today. First, that morning in the car with Taehyung, and now, with Jumin Han, of whom she knew little.

It was that same bitter acceptance she'd been feeling for days.

"And your father?" Another sip of wine. Red lips and a cool expression, but his eyes were so soft…"He lives in my world, then?"

Her disconsolate smile was enough of an answer. "Why should men at the top of the world listen to the whims of the wind?" For the first time that night, Mi Sun brought her glass to her mouth in earnest and allowed the bitter red to bleed across her tongue. She wasn't particularly fond of the liquid since she'd never developed a taste for it, but the feeling as it slipped down her throat was satisfying enough. It was only a sip and nothing more, but it strengthened her resolve for what needed to be done. "I'm happy that you get to live in a world where you may express your wants and desires with reckless abandon. For the rest of us, it's all about impressions of character."

His glass was empty now, and when Jumin set it back on the tablecloth, its balance was slightly off. He managed to keep it from falling over, but Mi Sun didn't miss the sheepish way he tucked his hands back into his lap. It was the first slip in the Director's cool, calculated demeanor that she'd witnessed.

He cleared his throat. "It would appear that I have misjudged yours, Areum." His tone wasn't at all unpleasant, and she could see the softness from his eyes slowly bleeding into his expression. He seemed to be considering her in a new light; perhaps it wasn't often that someone spoke so freely to the CEO-to-be.

She wondered what his world looked like. From the outside, it had always appeared to her as a world filled with brilliant, shining light and brimming with possibilities. Although her father carried an offsetting aura around him, his world was no less brilliant. His world was a blank canvas, and with the cosmos at his fingertips he'd always managed to paint whichever shape he wished to see. She, too, was a blank canvas, and although there had been times in her childhood when she'd caught slivers of sunlight leaking out, it had never been enough to mark her up completely. So, he'd done it in her stead, and Mi Sun couldn't gaze at herself in the mirror without seeing his catastrophe.

She gingerly set the glass back on the table and pushed out her chair, pulling herself to her feet. The hem of her dress brushed the expensive tile below, and Mi Sun was incredibly thankful that the garment was long enough that she could get away with wearing flat shoes. The fabric fanned out around her as she pushed the chair back under the clothed table.

"Sometimes," She murmured, "When you listen to the background noise, you learn things, Mr. Han."

"Jumin." His name was a curt interjection as if he couldn't stand to hear her speak such formalities any longer. "Just Jumin is alright."

"Jumin." She repeated it back to him with a smile and then bowed her head slightly. "Forgive me, but I would like some fresh air. Perhaps we'll have another chance to speak later."

He parted his lips as if to say something, but then, squaring his shoulders and bobbing his head slightly, he simply added, "Yes, I hope so."

With that, she turned from the table and straightened her posture, leaving the heaviness and sorrow of their exchanged words behind with him. She could feel his perturbed gaze on her back as she disappeared into the crowd, and as much as she'd have liked to return to her seat and speak with him a little longer, she knew that this was not something she was allowed. Her small, fleeting moment had slipped between her fingers, and all she could do was allow it to happen.

As she made her way through the thickest portion of the crowd and inconspicuously slipped down a hallway just beyond the balcony doors, she could feel the arms of time ticking once more. While she'd been waiting for an opportunity to move, time had been rolling laggardly along, but now, with faint memories of their exchanged words sitting idly behind her face and above her throat, time seemed to pass all at once.

Until it came to a screeching halt.

__________________________________________

_Jumin Han has entered the chatroom._

**Yoosung ★**

She wasn't in class today.

It was weird, Seven!

Usually, she'd message me, at least.

**707**

!!!!

she hasn't been on the chatroom at all

checked the logs lol

**Jumin Han**

Hello.

**707**

yo yo yo

**Jumin Han**

?

Oh, are the two of you discussing Min?

**Yoosung ★**

Do you know something?!

**707**

…

I think he just guessed lolol

**Jumin Han**

Yes, my deduction skills are more than adequate.

Also, Min is one of only two women in this chatroom.

Jaehee is at work, so it cannot be her.

**Yoosung ★**

Oh.

Right.

Jumin!

Min hasn't answered me all day!

**Jumin Han**

That is rather strange.

**Yoosung ★**

IT IS!

I tried to tell Seven, but he doesn't seem worried at all…;;

**707**

because

I am sure

that Min is fine

besides

!!!!

have u forgotten

God Seven is on the case !

**Yoosung ★**

So you are looking into it?

**707**

….

ur insatiable

u know

if u keep begging for min's attention like this

people might get the wrong idea

**Yoosung ★**

SEVEN.

**707**

okokok sheesh

I'll try to get ahold of her

**Yoosung ★**

Thank you.  
Tell me if you hear from her!

**707**

ya ya

anyway

Jumin

aren't u supposed to be at a company thing?

**Jumin Han**

Yes, my father and I were invited to an auction banquet by one of our partners.

**Yoosung ★**

Jumin…;;

Isn't it kinda rude to be on your phone?

**Jumin Han**

I am alone at the table currently.

I had company, but she left suddenly.

**Yoosung ★**

Woah!

Jumin was speaking to a woman!

**707**

u know what this means Yoosung…

could it be true that…

…

the rumor …

**Yoosung ★**

Here we go…

**707**

isn't true…

does…

**Jumin Han**

Luciel.

**707**

so then Jumin Han isn't…

**Jumin Han**

I will leave the chatroom.

**707**

okay okay !

…

fine

**Yoosung ★**

Who was she, Jumin?

**Jumin Han**

Actually, I do not fully know.

She accompanied the Chairman of another company.

**707**

woah! Scandal!

scandal alert!

I can see it now…

"Corporate Heir Jumin Han Makes A Move On Rival's Date"

**Yoosung ★**

Jumin!  
Is that really what happened?!

**Jumin Han**

That is not what happened.

We were merely talking.

Truth be told, I did not like her at first.

**Yoosung ★**

How come?

**Jumin Han**

I assumed that she was like the woman my father engages with.

It was unfair of me to make that assumption.

**707**

wow…

Jumin Han…

admitting he was wrong

????

what reality am I in

who was that girl

**Jumin Han**

She had some very interesting things to say.

**Yoosung ★**

Did you say that she just left?

**707**

a modern-day Cinderella!

**Jumin Han**

Yes, she suddenly claimed that she needed air and disappeared.

**707**

so….

if u find this girl…

and it's

!!! True love !!!

does that mean

I get to have Elly?

**Jumin Han**

Her name is Elizabeth III.

And no, you will never have her.

The auction is starting.

Goodbye.

_Jumin Han has left the chatroom._

__________________________________________

While the wealth of a company like Sung Life Insurance could buy them many things, it didn't appear to her as though a well-trained security team was one of them. During her trek from the banquet hall to the server room, Mi Sun had encountered two guards in total. One, a lackadaisical guard that appeared half-asleep at his post, and the other, a perkier guard whistling tunes as he did his rounds, completely unaware of the woman lurking patiently around the corner. The online security system made up for what the physical guards lacked, but still, it had not been enough to keep the hacker out.

The server room was rectangular and slightly cramped, but what it lacked in space, it made up for in storage. Shelves of data boxes, exterior units, and wires alike lined the walls on three sides, with the fourth covered in monitors that spanned the entire length of it. At the foot of the monitors was a desk with a keyboard and a mouse, as well as a control panel with hotkeys for various server systems, camera units, and extra security measures.

She'd set the camera feeds to loop during her ascent to the server room, and now that she was here, she could easily survey anyone's approach. Her dress bit into her skin as she sat in the old office chair, and after tucking the small drive she'd been given into a port on the main tower of the computer, her fingers began to fly over the keys.

Lines of code erupted across the screens in front of her. Beyond the initial security system - as well as a few extra layers - the company's servers were really not all that complex.

"Really?" Mi Sun wondered allowed, her casual voice catching her by surprise. She'd been speaking as properly as possible since first arriving to her father's office that morning. "They have people's livelihoods on file, and this is all they've got to back it up?" Although it made her job significantly easier to be met with weak security, she couldn't help but pity the unsuspecting customers that trusted this company to keep their files safe. They were one bad hack away from a fraud scandal.

Bingo. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she realized what use it had. With such weak security, a petty leak would take her no time at all, but it would be damaging enough to throw a wrench in the public's trust of Sung Life Insurance. Of course, Mi Sun had no intentions to _destroy_ the company - she absolutely could, but wouldn't - but perhaps a leak would be enough to get them off of Chairman Toh's back and simultaneously give him a leg up. It was perfect.

While she finished wiping any files concerning Quon Financial, Mi Sun began to poke small holes in the server security, pulling bits of information and piling them onto the external drive. If released to the public, this information wouldn't be enough to directly damage the consumers they belonged to, but even a small leak was concerning, and she knew that Chairman Toh was resourceful enough to use it well. She figured that a couple hundred might be enough to incite a substantial scandal, and it would keep her from spending too long in the company's system. Even poor security might notice a breach if she gave them long enough, and Mi Sun had no intention to let such a simple mission run poorly.

Within moments, the information was secured on the external drive and tucked into an inner pocket of her dress, hidden from view by the overwhelming fabric of the skirt. She quickly retraced her steps and looped the cameras again, checking first to make sure she wouldn't encounter the guards on their rounds while on her way back down to the banquet hall. Once the coast was clear, she slipped from the room and stepped out into the fluorescently-lit hallway.

Unlike moments before, she was enveloped in an eerie calm. The reassurance that such an easy mission had gone off without a hitch was enough to dissuade the knots wound in her stomach, as it would be enough to satisfy her father and the client without any backlash. She knew that there would be work with her other assignment waiting for her back in her apartment, and that she'd likely missed a dozen or so calls from Yoosung, but those were all distant things that she didn't have to address right then.

For now, time was rolling dutifully forward. For now, she was stuck in the headspace that had been engrained into her since her childhood: mission, mission, mission. For now, the despair she'd felt at the words exchanged across the clothed table only moments ago was all but forgotten. For now, as it had been for so long before, she was 606. Mi Sun was nothing but a pleasant dream.

Until it wasn't.

"I don't know that I would call this air fresh." A throat cleared in the hallway behind her, and Mi Sun's feet came to an abrupt halt. "The air conditioning system is outdated, after all." _Was that an attempt at a joke?_

With the archway to the banquet hall only feet ahead of her, Mi Sun turned and gazed at the tall man behind her, somehow still calm despite his sudden appearance. "Mr. Han-"

"Jumin."

"Yes, Jumin," She corrected, "It's not polite to sneak up on a woman, I'll have you know."

"Forgive me." He almost appeared to be smiling. With long strides, he was by her side, and the corporate heir stepped past her and continued into the banquet hall, already swallowed by the soft, golden glow. When he stopped and turned to look at her, the golden lights above appeared to her a crown atop his head, and she saw the faint traces of violet-hued stars dancing in his irises. He seemed somehow…lighter than before, standing there like that. Perhaps he'd had more wine, or perhaps he'd simply relaxed without her and the Chairmen around to bother him, but she didn't mind the lack of tension in the director's typically-rigid stance. When he spoke again, something gentle was present on his face, "Chairman Toh has been searching for you."

"Ah, yes, I am sure that I've worried him." She forced a smile and followed after him, disappearing into the crowd of mingling businessmen and their elegant dates. Although Jumin did not appear to be watching her, she could see the hesitance in the swing of his legs any time she fell too far back into the crowd, and she was almost thankful. "The auction is over, then?"

"Yes, you just missed it." The table was a dozen feet away, and she could see Toh gazing around, eyes slightly wide in anxious anticipation. It would have been amusing, had she not been so displeased to rejoin his company. "It appears your freedom is close." The tall man beside her let out a low chuckle.

Mi Sun didn't feel like laughing. Her response to his comment earlier rang in her head once more, _It's not that simple._ "Ah, you're right." They reached the table in time to hear Chairman Toh bidding Chairman Han farewell. So he'd spotted her approaching, then. _Good. At least now I can go home._ Mi Sun smiled brilliantly at her new acquaintances and dipped her head, extending both hands to shake theirs. Chairman Han bid her a warm goodnight, and as she turned back to her brief companion, she felt something she didn't recognize bubbling in her chest.

She knew that the corporate heir might correct her, but with everyone's eyes on her, she couldn't bring herself to forsake the formalities. Mi Sun dipped her head and took Chairman Toh's side, uttering, "It was very nice to meet you, Director Han."

His faint smile was gone, and in its wake, he wore the same expression as the first time she'd laid eyes on him. "You as well, Areum. Goodnight."

"Yes," She said, feeling Chairman Toh's hand at her back. "Goodnight."

The unspoken, unidentifiable feeling hung in the air between them as she turned her back to him once more, and though she would not know it until much later, the corporate heir watched her disappear into the crowd long after her goodnight had been drowned out by the ambiance. When his father finally turned to speak to him, Jumin did not hear him; the feeling twisting in his gut was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but rather riddled with confusion so potent it seemed to shake him. Who is this woman?

Chairman Toh waited until they were out of earshot for details about her whereabouts, and only after they'd exited the building and entered the safety of her father's car did Mi Sun indulge his inquiries. His eyes shined brilliantly at the news, and to her surprise, he seemed content enough with her success to leave her alone - save a few comments that made her stomach churn - for the rest of the ride. She was unable to give him the drive until they stood before her father, where she could confirm her success, but once the files he'd paid so much to obtain were secure in his grubby, rough hands, Chairman Toh quickly took his leave.

Her father did not look up from his computer. "You are dismissed."

The car ride home was quiet and empty, and although she'd been wishing all day to return to the comfort of her apartment, Mi Sun found herself missing Taehyun's company. Although he was reserved and often borderline unpleasant, there was a consistency to his attitude that she'd grown almost fond of. He always told her things as they were, without pretty words or ulterior motives. He held no secret ambition or quiet resentment for her, and although he was often a bystander to the horrid things that she endured, she knew that he cared for her in his own way. It was more than she'd received for most of her life, and in the moments that she felt herself truly slipping, it seemed enough to keep her hand on the railing.

The city passed by the window in a hazy blur, and with the rain beginning to patter incessantly against the windowpane, the colors bled together into a cacophony of vibrant light. She closed her eyes, hating how it reminded her of the glittering lights from the banquet hall and how Jumin had seemed to her a king; it reminded her of the lights strung around the trees in the plaza at her university, and how they brought to life the twinkling in Yoosung's eyes that she'd always joked and teased about; it reminded her of the soft yellow glow of the streetlight in the alleyway when she'd last spoken to Seven, and how his golden irises appeared to her almost iridescent if lit correctly.

_Stop it._ These were all things that she should not remember, and try as she might to wind her eyelids tightly together and push the images away, they wouldn't disappear. Suddenly, she remembered other things. Her mother insisted on hanging lights inside of the house during the holidays, since hanging them outside would be too conspicuous. There had been an old greenhouse on the property, and after her mother's death, Mi Sun had strung up the lights from the ceiling and would spend hours lying on the dusty, rotten floorboards, wishing desperately that they were stars.

Ignorantly, she wondered if those hopeful wishes might have been the catalyst. Had she spent all of her wishes back then, asking whoever was listening for something so impossible as bringing someone back from the dead? Was that why all of her desperate thoughts went unanswered now?

It wasn't until the car rolled to a stop that her spiraling was interrupted. When she stepped out and the rain began to pelt furiously at her skin, Mi Sun let out a sigh she hadn't known that she'd been holding; as if symbolizing how heavily her thoughts had been weighing on her, the heavens had opened up into a dutiful downpour, and she hardly made it to the door to her building before her wig was soaked and her makeup was running across her face.

As her introspection came to a close, it was replaced by an eerie, numbing quiet inside of her head. The elevator rolled up to her floor and she pressed her thumb against the button, permitting the doors to open. Her steps were labored and riddled with exhaustion, and upon shutting herself inside of her apartment, she felt her knees give out beneath her and crumbled, head coming to rest against the steel-reinforced door behind her.

For the first time she could consciously recall, Mi Sun cried.

Hot, vicious sobs erupting from her throat with the raw force of nature, as if every emotion she'd swallowed for the day - for her life - had collapsed in on her all at once. Her hands flew desperately to her chest, where she tugged at the fabric of the dress and clutched at her heart, longing to eliminate this feeling from inside of her. Her heart felt as if it were bursting, and as her tears cascaded down her cheeks in hot, relentless streams, Mi Sun stared with wide eyes down at her hands. The tears fell - _drip, drip_ \- onto her skin.

She hadn't even realized she was crying. The action had been completely involuntary, and now that the sounds had finally clawed their way from her throat, she couldn't begin to fathom how to stop them. Even when her heart finished seizing and she managed to pull herself to her feet, her sobs continued, and with shaky legs and trembling fingers, Mi Sun stumbled to her bathroom and despairingly pulled the fabric from her body.

The familiar numbness faded from her lips with reckless abandon, and in its absence a fire filled her, searing her skin and boiling her blood to such a point that she felt pain resounding in every cell in her body. She clawed at her throat and yelled at her reflection in the mirror, fists clenching so tightly that her nails drew blood on her palms, and only at the sight of the crimson liquid on the marbled countertop did she finally force a breath into her white-hot lungs.

Fumbling, she ripped the wig from her head and started the shower, turning the temperature all the way up. That familiar voice inside of her head, begging her to set the temperature normally, seemed distant now - drowned out by her sobs. The water seared into her skin when she finally stepped foot into the tub, but Mi Sun couldn't stabilize her thoughts long enough to differentiate that pain from the ache that had overcome her insides. She lowered herself to the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs, tucking her head between her knees. Simultaneously, she felt as though her heart might stop and her stomach might lurch to her throat.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she'd scrubbed her skin not once, not twice, but three times with a thick lather of soap, when her hair clung to her face and stuck to her eyelids, and when the water finally began to run lukewarm, that Mi Sun managed to reach a point of enough clarity to turn it off. She remained on the floor of the shower for moments she couldn't count. When a violent shiver overtook her, polarizing the searing heat in her bones, she picked herself up and grabbed a towel, tying her hair atop her head.

Her pajamas had brought her great comfort in the past, but they felt suffocating now. She sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her and a towel on her head, staring absentmindedly at the window wall ahead of her. Since arriving home, she had yet to turn any lights on besides the bathroom, and the faint white glow that poured into the hallway was only enough to keep her from stumbling over something.

Her eyes were swollen as she gazed at the screen in her hands, realizing only in this moment how much she'd worried Yoosung. In her numb, dissociative state, Mi Sun couldn't do more than clear the notifications for his missed calls - of which there were thirteen - and shoot him a quick text.

_1:32 am._   
_Hey, sorry for being a ghost today. Had some family stuff come up._

_Sorry for worrying you - I'm okay._

_I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?_

She'd barely sent the third message when he immediately responded, and for the first time, Yoosung didn't hit her with a line of interrogation.

_1:32 am._

_Min!_

_I'm glad you're okay. I hope everything is alright with your family!_

_I took notes for you in class today, so don't worry about that._

_I'll call you in the morning._

_Get some sleep!_

_1:33 am._

_Oh, thanks, Yoosung._

_You too. Sweet dreams._

Her phone began to slip from her fingers, and as if calling her attention back to it, she felt it begin to buzz against her skin. Rather than a text, her screen displayed an icon she'd come to know rather well: 707. It was a call.

She considered not answering it. Without a doubt, her throat was raw, her voice was strained, and there was still a trace of the trembling in her body. Physicality aside, her mental state was the lowest it had been in some time, and although she felt numb to the worst of it in that moment, she wasn't sure how her situation would change over the course of the night. What if she said something she hadn't meant to? What if she was too forward, as she'd been with Jumin? What if she couldn't be the Min that she needed to be?

Her fingers betrayed her. The screen fell dark, and silence buzzed on the other end of the line.

_"Min?"_

She hadn't pressed it to her ear, but she could hear Seven's voice calling out to her.

_"Min, hello?"_

"Hey, Seven," She croaked, wincing at the strain in her voice. "What's up?"

" _Oh, not much! Just spending all day wondering what happened to you, since you practically disappeared off of the grid. Yoosung's been talking my ear off, you know. I expect compensation for this!_ " There was a dry laugh.

She admired his attempt to lighten the mood, but in this state, Mi Sun couldn't bring herself to joke along with him. "I'm sorry," She breathed, shifting her weight out from under the blanket and lifting herself off of the couch. The lights far below were calling to her, and Mi Sun lowered herself to the floor in front of the window, silhouette illuminated against the dark apartment. Without another word, she pulled the latch on the window and shifted it open, enough that - had she wanted to - she could slip out into the night. Instead, she leaned her head against the cool frame and slipped her feet over the edge, letting them dangle in empty space. There was a balcony below, so had she chosen to slip through, the drop wouldn't have been longer than ten feet. Still, despite her muddled brain, that wasn't what she wanted.

She just wanted to feel the cool air on her face and the repetitive motions of rain pattering against her legs, to remind her that she was still here.

" _I, uh-_ " Seven's voice fell off, and she heard the rustling of a chair, " _I wasn't going to call._ " He cleared his throat. " _I still haven't wrapped my head around the other night, and since you seem so adamant about me not asking questions, I wasn't really sure…what to do. You…confuse me_."

"I'm sorry." She was whispering now, and had she not shifted the phone to rest between her neck and the window frame, he likely wouldn't have heard her.

" _Are you okay?_ "

"That's a question, you know." It was a joke, but her tone didn't sell it. The words sounded strange in the air.

" _I'm not asking what happened._ " She heard Seven sigh. Mi Sun could only imagine his frustration; she empathized with him, truly, but there was so little she could do…" _I just want to know if you're okay._ "

Rather than dodge it as she typically did, Mi Sun genuinely considered the question. Perhaps it was the emotional toll the day had taken on her, or her unusual new habit of obscurely admitting to her feelings without the accompanied danger of exposing anything confidential, but suddenly, she couldn't keep herself from it. "I think so."

" _You think so_?"

"My bones are all intact and I'm not bruised or bloody. Physically, I'm at a hundred percent." She attempted a laugh, but the motion died on her tongue and she coughed, wincing at how raw her throat had become.

" _What about…everything else_?"

"Everything else…" Far below her, cars pushed the rain from their windshields and sputtered down the road, leaving trails of yellow and red that streaked across her tired eyes. "Seven, do you believe in God?"

***

" _Seven, do you believe in God_?"

The phone nearly fell from his fingers. The redhead sat with his knees drawn to his chest in his desk chair, tapping the thumb and forefinger of his freehand absentmindedly against the desktop in front of him. As her strained voice hit his ears, a quiet still came over his hand atop the cool, black surface. It was the last question he'd been expecting from her, and although it had thrown him for a loop, he couldn't deny how uncomfortably his gut twisted at it. It wasn't that the topic of religion made him uncomfortable, per se…It was just that he'd never heard Min speak like this before, even in their encounter two nights ago, and the longing hiding under the apathetic tone of her voice concerned him.

"Why are you asking me that?" He lifted his hand from the desktop and pulled off his glasses, setting them aside. Rubbing a hand over his face and pushing life back into his tired eyes, Seven waited anxiously for an answer. _What is going on with her? What happened today?_

" _I'm not sure_." There was a pause. He thought he could hear wind, but Min's location was undoubtedly at her apartment. " _I think I did, at some point. My mom was religious. Sometimes I try to remember the little prayers she taught me, but I can't anymore._ "

He didn't miss her choice of words. Was? Her mother _was_ religious? Frowning, Seven pulled up the file he'd pinned to his desktop and glanced over it for what felt like the hundredth time. Min's mother wasn't dead, so he couldn't fathom why she'd be using past tense-

" _It gets hard to remember a lot of things. They get all muddled in my head, and I can't…I, um…You know, Seven, I remember colors really well_." She took a deep breath, and he could hear the faint distortion on the microphone as the air left her lips. _"I can't remember sometimes, but then I'll see a color, and it triggers it. It's kind of amazing. Brains are a lot like code, you know? Sometimes the code gets all messed up and you have to find the problem and fix it, or delete the line and start again. You can always just reprogram it…right?_ "

Her words sent a familiar feeling up the length of his spine, and he could feel the weight of them resting unbearably on his shoulders. It was a thought process he'd gone through many times himself, and he knew exactly what that tone of voice meant. _This is not good_. "Min…you aren't making a lot of sense, you know? Why would you need to reprogram your brain?"

" _Ah…I did it again. I'm sorry._ " He could hear the smile in her voice, but he wasn't sure that it was a happy one. " _Maybe I'm just sleep-deprived, so I'm speaking nonsense. Sorry, God Seven._ " There was an attempt at a chuckle.

"It's alright." He swallowed. "Are you…safe right now?"

" _Safe?_ "

"Yes, safe. Are you home? Have you eaten?"

" _Yes, I ate dinner a couple of hours ago. I'm sure you know I'm home, since you hacked my phone. The door is locked. I'm safe."_

He couldn't help himself. "I won't ask what happened, but you're acting really different, Min. I'm concerned about you."

" _Don't be_." The soft tone in her voice was there, but her words were cold, almost like a command. " _You really shouldn't be_."

"Why not? Why are you so insistent on handling whatever it is that you're going through alone?"

" _It's not my decision, Seven-_ " Her voice broke on his name, and in that moment, all of the pieces fell together in his brain.

Why her voice sounded so strained and quiet, and why her usual, warm attitude was nowhere to be found. She seemed sad and distant, and when she spoke, it was an odd combination of introspective and existential that he couldn't begin to follow. Now that he'd heard it in her voice, Seven realized. Min had been crying, and by how drastically her personality had changed, he wagered it wasn't a simple moment of sadness. He'd been in that state far too many times in his life to not recognize the signs.

"Oh." _Not her decision?_ It seemed that with each conversation with her, Seven only grew more frustrated and confused. It was as if she were laying clues out for him to help her, to make him understand, but he was too dense or stupid to put them together. It was infuriating. "Min-"

" _What about you, Seven? Have you eaten?_ "

He frowned. "I don't really think that's what's important right-"

" _What, you can bug me about looking after myself but I'm not allowed to do it back?_ " For a fleeting second, shades of the Min he'd come to know shone through her quiet voice.

"Okay, okay." He breathed, pinching his nose with his free hand. Min was stubborn, he knew, and although he was sure she was aware that he'd realized how poor of a state she was in, she seemed to have no intention of letting him in, just as last time. With a sigh, he resolved himself to pull that shade of her former self he'd caught a glimmer of out once more; if he couldn't help her, perhaps he could at least cheer her up. "Ya know, I was going to try something really glorious today."

" _What would that be_?"

"Picture this: you know about the glorious taste of HBC, obviously. I still can't believe you found those so easily…witch woman." He snickered, and then continued, "And you know about my love for Ph.D. Pepper. Well, consider…both flavors together."

Although she hadn't laughed, she seemed a little more focused and calm than before when she answered him. " _Seven, you didn't_."

He grinned wickedly. "I did, and it was _terrible_. Who knew that two divine things would be so messy together? Mary Vanderwood III was not a happy camper."

" _Mary Vanderwood III_?" He could hear her piqued curiosity. _Bingo_.

"Oh, my maid. She's so mean! All she does is yell at me and hit me!"

" _You poor thing. Maybe you should clean up after yourself._ "

"Min, not you, too!" He put a hand over his heart and groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the chair. "I'm wounded, truly. This is the biggest betrayal of them all."

There was a push of breath, and Seven swore he heard hints of a laugh. " _Forgive me, Defender of Justice. However will I regain your trust?_ "

He shook his head. "Well, you can start by eating proper meals and not staying up so late every night!" His tone was teasing, but there was an almost maternal sound to it that felt foreign - but not unpleasant - on his tongue. "You should get some sleep, you know. How are we going to prank Yoosung if you pass out during the meeting tomorrow?"

This time, he was sure it was a chuckle. " _I'm sure you'd find a way._ "

"You're right, I'm amazing." Seven let out a soft laugh and pushed his glasses back onto his face, squinting at the time. "Really, though. It's passed two. You need sleep, Min." He could hear something rustling, and then the sound of something latching. "What are you doing?"

" _Getting into bed,_ " She replied simply, accompanied by more rustling. Ah, her blanket, then. " _But Seven_?"

"Yeah?" A dull throb had set into his knees, and with a grimace, he released them from his chest and stretched his legs out.

" _Do you think you could…talk to me a little longer?_ " Her voice was pitifully small. " _I, um…I just don't think I can sleep just yet."_

He knew that he should decline. There was a pile of papers for him to sort through, as well as an assortment of assignment files for him to print out and mark up. He had lines of code to do, a due date readily approaching, and he was already slightly behind on schedule. No doubt, when Vanderwood arrived in the morning, he'd greet the cheeky redhead with the brilliant blue of his trusty taser and threaten him with tasks that seemed far too creative…

But then he remembered that dull longing in her voice, and he couldn't bring himself to say no. "Sure, Min. I'll talk to you until you fall asleep, okay?"

" _Okay_." She sounded reassured, and it made something warm blossom in his chest. Seven ignored it. " _Can you tell me about your day_?"

"My day?"

" _Yeah. Or…things you like? Funny stories? It can be anything, really. I'll listen."_

So he did. As the early hours of the morning passed and Min listened dutifully on the other end of the line, Seven told her about his day, about the robot he'd built that was _definitely_ a fire hazard, about his babies, about a funny story he'd heard from Yoosung…He told her everything that he could think to tell her, and it wasn't until he heard her breathing steadily on the other line that he realized she'd fallen asleep. Still, just in case she woke up, he continued telling her all of the things that came to mind. An hour later, when he'd exhausted every story in his arsenal and her dutiful breaths had steadied the anxiety in his chest, Seven finally made himself say goodnight. Although he knew that she wouldn't answer, he said it anyway, and when his thumb swiped across the screen to end the call, he almost felt disappointed.

He couldn't remember the last time someone had asked him about his day.


End file.
